


Draco Malfoy and the...

by Kellyrages



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, F/M, Harry Potter References, Hogwarts, Malfoy Family, Malfoy Family Feels, Malfoy Manor, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Society, Purebloods, Sweet Draco Malfoy, Yule Ball
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2018-11-30 05:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 26,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kellyrages/pseuds/Kellyrages
Summary: A collection of events concerning Draco Malfoy and his crush on you.





	1. Yule Ball Disaster

You look up just as Draco Malfoy confidently sits down beside you on the stone bench, and you send him a look with a frown. You're trying to study, you'd chosen this specific bench because no one ever comes this far back; how did the annoying blond always have an uncanny ability to find you when you least want him too?

"What is it?" You inquire, seeing Draco straighten slightly. He's looking at you, the trademark Malfoy smirk on his face, blond hair brushed back out of his way. His robes are of course the nicest money can be, a seamless black with the Slytherin logo upon them, just as yours are. You're both from wealthy, prominent pureblood families, both in the same House --- you're just not as spoiled and rotten as he his.

"So, you know that ball that's coming up?" He asks, his eyes running down your still form. You're the prettiest girl in the entire school, he'd decided that in First Year. Even when you'd worn your hair in two braids instead of one, even when you'd been better then him at charms, and he'd had to swallow his dignity and ask if you'd help him with his work; obviously, it wasn't because he was terrible, no, it was simply to get closer to you. 

You're one of the few women worthy of a Malfoy's attentions, he'd even talked it over with his father and found he agreed. Not many hold the same social status the two of you do, are role models as to how the other Slytherins should act. You always seem so indifferent and above everyone else, you're perfect!

"The Yule Ball?" you sigh, looking down at your books and knowing you're not going to get to study at all. You reach up, brushing loose strands of your hair behind your ear before looking at him again. 

"Yes, that one."

"What about it?" Are you going to have to drag it out of him? You like Draco, he's always been nice to you, but you don't like how he treats everyone else, especially those not in the same House. Perhaps the two of you had just been raised differently, by parents holding different principle's, but you've never liked belittling anyone or making them feel bad for who they are. Draco can be good; deep down, he has a good heart that you've seen. He might be all riddling remarks and superior breeding on the outside, but he's an actual person, with his own thoughts and feeling that aren't scrupled by his fathers words. You'd liked him much better when you were children.

"Well," Draco hesitates, which is really what draws your attention; he never hesitates, he always knows exactly what he wishes to say, "I want you to go with me. To the ball. Be my date." He straightens, proudly, as if he's just given you an invitation to the Queen.

You snort. "No."

"I'm glad you --- wait, no?" He stares at you, taken back as your answer registers. "What do you mean, no?"

"I think it's a very understandable word, Draco." You reply tartly, closing your book harder then you mean too. "Don't be shocked I don't want to go with you."

"Why don't you want too?" He rises as you do, slinging your bag over your shoulder in aggravation. He's taller then you, he really grew around Third Year, so you have to look up at him.

"Does it ever occur to you that someone else might have asked me to go? And not waited until the day before?" You say, holding your book tighter to your chest as you look up at him. "I'm not invisible, Draco."

"I know you're not invisible," he scowls down at you; he's never been rejected before! Usually Slytherin girls are more then welcoming of his attentions, and yet you --- you always turn him down! No one else treats him so condescendingly, except perhaps Potter, but his opinion has never mattered. "Who asked you?"

"I'm not going to tell you just so you can go and bully them." You snap, glaring up at him. You're both standing beneath one of the large trees in the courtyard, one of the few as otherwise it's just grass in an open area. There's one large tree that's grown over the years, taking up almost one entire wall, and in the center of the area is an iron sphere, one that's been there for as long as you can remember. "You always try to ruin everything for me, Draco! If you had asked me earlier, in a manner that wasn't so presumptuous, maybe you would have had a chance!"

Draco bristles, insulted. "What do you mean, 'had'? I always have a chance!"

"Yes, I'm sure." You sigh in aggravation. "I swear, Draco, if you would just act like a normal person instead of such a git, you would get so much farther in life."

His face blossoms red, and without another word, you walk off, disappearing behind a group of Gryffindor's. Draco sighs in defeat, sitting down rather heavily on the stone bench you'd left behind. He glances down, frowning when he sees you've left a notebook behind. He reaches for it, seeing it's for charms, the one class the two of you still share; you're in advanced, and Draco clawed his way through with copious amounts of studying just so he could retain some time with you.

He hates charms.

~~~~~~

You can't avoid him forever, not when you're in the same House. 

Draco sits moodily in the House common room, his arms spread along the back of a green and silver sofa as he waits for you to enter the room. You have to come back some time, and he intends to sit and wait until you do. He still has your notebook, with all your scribbled notes about charms, many of which he's not even familiar with. You seem to really enjoy it, whereas he considers it more a waste of time.

Still, you're passionate about something, and that says a lot for you. He glances around as he hears bouts of giggles, seeing some Slytherin girls in the corner, gossiping about dresses and their dates.

He wonders, for the hundredth time, who asked you. Did they indeed ask you? Did you ask them? Why didn't you wait for him to ask, as you knew he would? It's all very frustrating to him. He doesn't understand why you're so adamantly against being involved with him, he'd treat you well and like a princess! His family has money, you would never want for anything, and it's not like he's asking you to get married; just a date on the weekends to Hogsmead, some continued help with his charms work, and maybe some errant snogging, nothing more!

That sounds wonderful to him, so why doesn't it you? How can he make his case?

Hmm.

He straightens hopefully as the common room's doors open, only to slump back in disappointment when it's just Pansy Parkinson and a gaggle of her friends entering. He sighs dramatically, the notebook still held in his lap, propping his pale chin upon his fist.

Admittedly, he loves spending time in the commons room, it's fitting for him.

Found in the dungeons of Hogwarts, the room extends part way beneath the Hogwarts lake, giving the room a very greenish tinge. The arching windows look out into its murky water, and occasionally the students can see the famous giant squid sweeping by, among other creatures that always make the viewing worth the time. Decorated in the house colors of green and silver, with a large portrait of a serpent above the fireplace for all to see, it's also furnished with low backed black and green leather sofa's and chairs, with dark wood cupboards. It has an atmosphere of mystery, but also of coldness, which is fitting for snakes.

Draco has never been disappointed with how it looks, and thanks to his father's contributions, it's always up with the latest fashion.

Just as you could be; your family is nothing to be ashamed of, you're rich, but not to the same extent of the Malfoy's; with your combined wealth, as you're both the only children, think of the social status you two could have! 

Draco sighs again, more morosely then before, his mood plummeting.

He's not a git. In fact, he's the furthest thing from it! Why do you think so little of him when he does his best to impress you? He just doesn't understand.

Who in the bloody hell asked you to the dance before him!?

"What's with the face, Draco?" 

He glances over, seeing Tabitha Bainbridge gazing at him from another chair, something hideous in her lap she's trying to finish sewing on. He narrows his eyes at her, wondering why such a half-blood as she is speaking to him. He has no interest in her, his only thoughts are on pursuing you, he doesn't need any distractions!

"Are you waiting for (Y/N) to come in?" Tabitha asks, pretending he isn't ignoring her as she fixes a spot on her dress that her silly cat had torn. "She was in the library last I checked, talking to that Gryffindor Granger. I'm surprised she wasn't put in Ravenclaw," she sighs, shrugging slim shoulders. "I don't see why you fancy her, Draco."

Draco's pale cheeks flush slightly, but he chooses to ignore her again, instead rising to her feet. He wants to make a smart comment back at her, but he doesn't have the time, he needs to find you.

Malfoy's don't typically apologize for their behavior, Draco has never felt remorse for anything he's ever done, but in this case, perhaps... it might work?

~~~~~~

Draco spies you instantly in the library, sitting at one of the tables by yourself, leaning over one of your books. You're absently playing with the end of your hair, a trait he finds he likes, as you study. No one else is around you, typically Slytherin's travel in packs and are left to themselves when traveling on their own. 

He glances around with a scowl; he rarely has need to visit the library, full of old books and know-it-all students. Today is the only exception he'll make, and it's to drop off this silly notebook to you.

He walks forward, dodging the floating books as they make their way back to their shelves. The scent of ancient pages hits his nose, making it curl in distaste. He'd rather be out on the Quidditch field, taking a Bludger to the face then in here in the eerily quiet atmosphere. He supposes it's good for studying, but who has time for that?

You look up just as he sits down, your face souring as you recognize him. He doesn't say a word, just offers you the notebook you'd forgotten, almost as a sort of peace offering. You blink, gazing at it; you'd realized you'd lost it the moment you'd sat down in the library, and you'd gone into a panic.

You're immensely relieved Draco found it, and you suppose at this point you left it in the courtyard. You take it from him silently, shuffling it into your bag before offering him the smallest of smiles, one that makes his face immeasurably brighten.

"You forget that outside," he says softly, leaning a little closer to you then necessary, as if trying to convey a secret to you. "I was going to give it to you in the commons room, but you took your time coming there."

"I need to study," you reply, just as quietly, glancing around the library to find no one is paying either of you any attention. "It's usually the best place for it."

"I see that." He grimaces, clasping his hands in front of him along the used table; really, this place could use some sprucing, it's practically medieval in its furniture! If being a Malfoy had taught him anything, it's to always be stylish and to always have the best.

This library would make milk curdle with its lack of modern decor.

"Did you really come all the way here just to drop off my notebook? You could have given it to one of the girls to leave on my bed." You sigh, your quill poised above your paper where you're taking notes. 

"I wanted to make sure it got back to you, I know how lost you'd be if you didn't have your notes for charms." he shrugs his shoulders. "It's your favorite class."

You blink, a little surprised he knows that. You do enjoy it, you seem to have an affinity for it, much to the pleasure of Professor Flitwick. It's a tad odd for a Slytherin to be so interested in charms, but you don't mind. You're not quite sure why you were sorted into Slytherin and not another house. You feel as if you don't fit in there, not very well, even if the past members of your family has always either been Slytherin or Ravenclaw. You suppose there might be a Hufflepuff or a Gryffindor here and there, but rarely. 

You're starting to believe the sorting hat doesn't really sort by anything other then its own whims.

"Well, thank you," you say cautiously, wondering what Draco is really up too. You doubt he truly likes you, he's only interested in you because of your family. You're an only child, so when your parents pass, you stand to inherit all of their fortune. They have much prestige in the Wizarding world, as well as the muggle, so you figure the ambition behind Draco befriending you is simply for the family name, nothing more. He's clever, but so are you, and you pride yourself on seeing through other people's illusions.

"You're very welcome." Draco smiles at you, his shoulders more relaxed then usual. He's not smirking, so that's a nice change. "(Y/N), I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier."

"You would?" He's full of surprises all of a sudden. You blink at him, finally setting your quill down flat, no longer interested in your studies.

"Yes. I realize I might have seemed rude earlier, not taking into consideration that of course you would have a date to the Yule Ball," he explains himself, ice gray eyes on your face. "I'm sure many others jumped at the chance to ask you."

Hmm. Now he's laying it on rather thickly. You quirk one brow at him, propping your chin on your hand as you give him your full attention, curious as to where this conversation is going.

"Well, apology accepted." You say, fiddling with the end of your hair again. 

"Good." He smiles again, straightening a little. "I hope to see you there tomorrow night then, and not thinking I'm some pompous git."

You hear the edge to the end of his sentence, and you realize you must have truly struck a nerve with your insult. You hesitate, feeling the slightest spot of guilt; you hadn't thought he would take anything you said into consideration, let alone have his feelings genuinely hurt.

"I... didn't mean anything by that," you mutter after a moment, cheeks heating. "I shouldn't have called you that."

"It's alright, I know I can be sometimes." He says, rather proud of how smoothly this conversation is going. He's all smiles and soft nods, but his eyes are calculating, watching your every move and reaction and already deciding upon what to say next to further him into your good graces. It seems playing the good wizard and being amiable does more for his relationship with you then being his typical self.

You smile as you look down, trying to hide it behind your hair.

"I'll see you tomorrow, (Y/N). I bet you're going to look beautiful in your dress," Draco says softly as he rises to his feet, your eyes following his slim form as he steps away from the table and strides confidently rather then arrogantly from the library.

Oh, bollocks.

Why did he have to go and be nice to you just when you'd almost affirmed a distaste for him again?

~~~~~~~~

Draco tugs at the collar of his dress robes, twisting and turning a little to admire himself in the floor length mirror. He smooths a hand across his hair, straightens an errant button or too, and then deems himself worthy of leaving the dormitory. He glances around for Crabbe and Goyle, finding them waiting for him in the commons area just as he ordered them too. 

The commons room is abuzz, just as every house one is. Girls in pretty dresses and boys in their nice robes, all getting ready to go to the Yule Ball. There's a nervous energy running through all the students, one Draco pretends he doesn't feel; Malfoy's never reveal their emotions.

He doesn't see you anywhere, the one person he's actually looking for. He wonders what your dress looks like, what color you picked. Obviously the girls prefer an array of colors, no matter what house they're in, judging from what he sees before him. He frowns in disappointment, and starts for the door.

He'll find you before the night's over.

~~~~~~

You're disappointed, you don't see Draco anywhere. You pick nervously at your silver dress, feeling a little ridiculous. You'd put extra effort into your appearance solely for him, despite you'll never admit such a thing. It seems frivolous, considering you know what his intentions are, and how false they tend to be.

Still, you tried.

Your hair is pulled up into a braided twist, which one of the other girls helped you with, some glitter tossed in it to make it sparkle beneath the bright candlelight. You put on some makeup, just enough to brighten your cheeks and make your eyes stand out. Your silver dress clings to you down to your hips, where the skirt sort of flows outward --- it'll look pretty when you're dancing, you hope.

You're nervous, you know you shouldn't have agreed to go with your date, but the opportunity had just been too rare to pass up!

You twist the smooth material between your fingertips, feeling uncomfortable as you stand by yourself atop the stairs. Your date should be here by now, any minute you would be called down for the formal dance, he would be late! He's one of the contestants for the Triwizard Tournament, he needs to set an example for himself.

You sigh; perhaps this had been an error in your judgement after all.

You can see the other contestants gathering at the bottom of the stairs, Professor McGonagall herding them all together.

Ah!

You spot Draco after a moment, at the bottom of the steps, leaning casually against the railing. He looks bored as he peruses the crowd, talking to Crabbe and Goyle and smirking every now and again. He looks so handsome in his robes, the black nice despite how pale his skin is. They're expensive, stylish, his typical clothing.

"(Y/N)."

You twist as you hear your name, relaxing as you see Harry Potter hastening towards you, his red headed friend on his heels.

"There you are, you're almost late," you chide, your hands on your hips as you look at him. His black hair is combed, hiding the scar on his forehead, his glasses perched low on his nose. He's dressed nicely, in more casual robes that seem to fit him well. He gives you a nervous smile, and your eyes flit behind him to his... friend.

"You look nice, Harry," you force the compliment from yours lips, knowing it's the polite thing to say. Really, Harry Potter didn't ask you to the Yule Ball because he even knew you, he asked you because Cho turned him down and he was running out of time for a date. You don't know each other, only in classes and in passing, and you'd just happened to be the first girl he'd seen.

Considering it was only two days before the ball, and Draco hadn't asked you then, you'd surmised he never would. You'd accepted Harry's offer, although now you wonder if it was a good idea considering how everyone was looking at the two of you standing together speaking.

Or maybe they were looking at the hideous robes his friend is wearing, you're not sure. You can't seem to stop looking at all the lace.

"Thanks. You too," Harry says awkwardly to your compliment, not at all as smooth as Draco would be. You smile at him, and he turns to his friend whose name you can't quite recall. His friend looks miserable in his robes, and you can see one of the Patil twins reluctantly approaching him; is that his date?

Poor girl.

"Shall we go?" You ask lightly, seeing everyone gathered downstairs expectantly. Harry nods hastily, although really he looks so nervous you're surprised he doesn't bail at any moment. He offers his arm, and you slip yours through it, letting him escort you down the stairs as you hold your skirt out of the way.

You glance over just as you reach the bottom, seeing Draco's face.

Oh dear.

~~~~~

Draco is livid.

Of all people to ask you --- bloody Harry Potter!? That --- that mudblood loving filth!

That's who you're dancing with right now!?

Draco seethes as he stays in the shadows, watching the first dance of the Yule Ball. You look beautiful in silver, still representing your house colors despite how all the other girls flounced around in yellows and purples. Your dress fits you very flatteringly, and you look graceful dancing --- you looking so smooth is the only thing saving Potter from looking like the clumsy oaf he is. Obviously he has no idea what he's doing, you're the one leading!

Draco's mood darkens. Potter's hand is around your waist, his other clasped in yours as the two of you move around the dance floor in a flash of silver skirts; obviously your mother had had your dress tailored just for this occasion so you could look as noticeable as possible.

Bollocks.

He's glad when the first dance is over, when everyone can remove themselves from the floor and let others join. Potter looks relieved to be done with it, letting go of you the moment you're no longer the center of attention. You say something to him Draco can't see, and Potter nods his head before you slip off into the crowd.

Draco takes the opportunity to follow.

"Potter?" he demands the moment he's beside you, catching you off guard as you step out of the Great Hall and into the hallway, skin flushed from dancing. You blink at him a few moments, unable to immediately fathom a response to his horrid tone. "That's who asked you to the ball. You turned me down for Potter?"

You knew this was a bad idea.

"I didn't turn you down for Harry," you correct Draco, crossing your arms defensively in front of you. "He asked me first, you didn't."

"He's --- you went with him?" Draco is aghast, he can't even form a valid argument, he's just so --- furious! You could have went with a Hufflepuff and he wouldn't have thought it any challenge, but Potter --- it's like you chose the boy purposefully to anger Draco, to throw it in his face how uninterested you were in him despite all he's tried to do.

"Yes, Draco, I did." You say flatly, glad that everyone is too preoccupied with the ball to notice the two of you arguing outside the large doors. "I know you dislike him, but ---."

"Dislike!?" the Slytherin hisses, for the first time reminding you of the snake that represents his house. "I more then dislike, I detest him! He stands for everything that the wizarding world shouldn't be!"

"Fair?" you snap, losing your temper. Your hands move to your hips, and you square of with him, refusing to let him berate you or belittle anyone, you simply can't take it! "You don't like him because he doesn't like your pompous attitude, Draco Malfoy! He doesn't like your bigotry, your belittling, or your rudeness! You treat everyone like they're below you!"

"Because they are!" he huffs, completely serious, not at all remorseful of anything he's ever done. He was raised to believe that if not pureblood, then they don't deserve his respect or acknowledgement, even if they're famous. Potter snubbed him all those years ago, in front of everyone, and Draco has never forgiven him for it. "I am a Malfoy!"

"You are a jerk," you correct him, glaring at him from beneath silver-painted eyes. "You're a jerk and I will never have anything to do with you so long as you continue to treat everyone like they have no feelings! You're cruel, and arrogant, and just like your father!"

Draco has never been insulted by being compared to his father before, but now he suddenly feels the sting of the words. He glowers at you, pale face flaring red as gray eyes narrow angrily.

"Fancy coming from you," he sneers. "You got all dolled up for Potter, when he's more interested in that Chang girl. He didn't even know how to dance! He's an embarrassment!"

"I didn't get dressed up for Harry," you hiss at him, feeling your eyes start to burn. "I don't care about him at all! You ruin everything, Draco! You think you're so clever, but you never see anything past your own stupid nose!" You jab him thoughtlessly in the chest, making him take a step back. "You care about pretenses, you don't care about actual people --- all you care about is pleasing your father, and that's going to be your downfall! Be your own person for once, stop letting him control your life, it's going to ruin you!"

You don't bother to hear his response, you just gather your skirts and turn sharply, heading down the hallway. Your night is ruined, you don't want to return to any stupid festivities now --- already tears are starting to seep past your lashes, ruining all the effort you'd put into your appearance. You don't mean to cry, it's not something you usually do, but after how nice he'd acted yesterday --- he's not the only fool after all.

Draco watches you go, at a complete loss for words. He doesn't move after you, just lets you disappear, leaving him by himself by the stairs. He frowns, your words running through his mind, the shimmer to your pretty eyes as you'd told him off.

He leans back against the wall in disappointment.

He ruined everything. He'd been putting so much work into creating some sort of relationship with you, and now --- well, it's ruined. You'll never have anything else to do with him now, not unless he finds a way to grovel to you.

Malfoy's don't grovel, however, not for anyone.

Draco runs a hand through his hair, his stomach dropping.

The Yule Ball was a complete disaster.

 


	2. Weasley Conundrum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco is confounded as to why you'd wish to spend your time with a Weasley rather then him.

Draco sits silently, brooding to himself in the courtyard. Crabbe and Goyle are off goofing around with each other, and for once he's glad to be free of the morons. They might be pure bloods, but that's all they have going for them.

The Yule Ball was one of the worst nights of Draco's life.

It's been three weeks, and you've done everything possible to get away from him. Somehow you manage to disappear during dinners, he never sees you pass through the commons room --- the only place you two share is charms class, and even then you manage to make him feel invisible.

It's depressing.

Worst part is even he's heard the rumors.

He's embarrassed.

It might not be a secret that he's been chasing after you for a good bit, Draco has never known how to be subtle. The fact you publicly snubbed him to dance with Harry Potter isn't helping his ego, and now this ---- a Weasley!?

Draco is humiliated.

A damned Weasley, hanging all over his girl, parading around the castle with her on his arm when it should be Draco's! How infuriating!

To be reasonable, Draco doesn't know if you're actually dating one of the red haired twins, or if that's just the rumor because you've been seen together. Not that it makes a difference, they would just be a rebound, considering the situation. There's no way you would actually lower your status to become involved with some wizard who's lowly father worked at the Ministry, anyhow! You're just doing it to be cruel to him!

Draco still isn't going to apologize, he did nothing wrong.

You, on the other hand, with your ridiculous actions and flippant attitude towards him, do. That's what he has decided, and that's how it's going to be. Until you apologize, he's not going to view you as any better then the mudblood-loving twins you're associating yourself with.

There.

That's final.

That's how Draco feels about the whole Weasley Conundrum, as he's deigned to call it.

~~~~~~~~

You giggle as you sit beside Fred and George in the courtyard, listening to them banter back and forth, finishing each others sentences and teasing. You like them because they make your laugh, and for a few moments you can forget the ridiculousness of your situation.

Fred had found you crying in a hallway after the Yule Ball disaster, and had been kind enough to stop and see if you were alright. You doubt he would have done so if you had no been seen with Harry, as most times Slytherins are ignored by others Houses. He'd said something funny, made you laugh despite your misery, and had been checking on you the past few weeks since.

He's nice, and you appreciate that.

Really, though, you should be studying, you're falling a little behind in charms. Draco is there, and he distracts you, despite how hard you attempt to ignore his very existence. You can feel those gray eyes on the back of your head as Flitwick teaches class, and he hovers every day at the door, as if waiting for you to approach him.

You'll never. After his behavior at the ball, you're not sure you ever want to speak to him again. Truly, he was unfairly rude towards you, but you'd known being seen with Potter would upset him. You're not normally one of those girls who likes to make boys jealous, but that had just happened to be the situation.

Draco confounds you. 

You're honestly not sure what he wants from you.

He doesn't want to be just friends, which is what you would prefer. You don't really know Draco Malfoy, really know him, as in what his likes and interests are, what foods he likes and doesn't, if he likes sleeping on Saturdays or getting up early. He doesn't know you either, and that's the problem; he doesn't even try! Other then your name, you don't know what interest he even has in you.

It's discouraging, and your heart sinks just thinking about it. He only likes your last name, not you as a person, and he'll never try too. He doesn't know your favorite color, your favorite books, that you're allergic to cats but you love them anyway. You're not surprised in the least he knows charms is your favorite class, but that's obvious to anyone.

Even the Weasley's know that!

"Bless it, what's the matter?" Fred asks you, glancing over when you grow quiet. "Why the long face?"

"Nothing," you say hastily, straightening a little and forcing a strained smile. "Just thinking about homework."

"Ah, don't worry your pretty head about it," George says, leaning around Fred to peer at you. "We never do our homework."

"And look at how well we're doing," Fred adds, causing you to snort.

"Yes, I can see that."

The twins grin at each other; they like you, even if you are a Slytherin. You're not like the rest of them, all cold and snobbish, acting like their family names and money are the reasons the wizarding world keeps going. You're more down to earth then most of the other students, and you laugh at their corny jokes.

Fred likes that.

"So what's your plans tonight?" Fred asks.

"Heard there's a big to do in the room of requirement," adds George.

"Oh, I don't --- I don't know. I'm ---."

"Oh, come on! What's it gonna hurt?" Fred asks, nudging you with his shoulder. "Don't be a Granger!"

"And what, pray tell, does that mean?"

The three of you look over, spying Hermione Granger herself standing there, one hand on her hip while the other holds her books to her. She doesn't look impressed by the sentiment, her eyes narrowed at them while her frizzy hair frames her face. 

"Not a bit," George tells her.

"Just a bit of fun." Fred shrugs, but he winks at you before both twins stand. 

"Don't study too hard!" George tells you as they both back away, apparently knowing when to make their escape. You just look at them, watching as they bow dramatically to Hermione before flouncing off, laughing and shoving at each other in their typical manner. You frown, wondering how two people can always be so happy when the world around them is so disastrous.

Hermione glances at you, gives you one of her kind smiles, but continues walking. You're sure she has some studying to do, considering she's the brightest of your class. You know you should take her example, and you look down at your bag with a deepening frown.

Bother.

You gather your books, opening your charms notebook and gazing down at it for several seconds. Unfortunately, you can't seem to focus on any of your notes, not when this is the same notebook Malfoy happened to give to you when you had forgotten it. He'd been kind enough to bring it straight to you, and nothing had been wrong with it in the least; no wrinkled pages, no scuff marks, he hadn't even made a sarcastic remark, though you're sure he read through it.

You sigh, lowering the notebook to your lap.

Draco Malfoy confounds you.

~~~~~~~

"Did you hear?" Pansy Parkinson is gossiping again. She's sitting on one of the low-backed sofa's in the Slytherin commons room, several of her friends gathered around her. She's the head of the group, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, looking haughty and proud as all Slytherins do. "About (Y/N)?"

"No, what about her?" Tabitha Bainbridge asks, the book she was reading forgotten in her lap. All eyes are on Pansy, ready for the next words to leave her lips. 

Draco pretends he hears nothing. He sits in one of the chairs by the fire, one ankle propped on his knee and he looks over his books. He prides himself on academic excellence, he has a reputation to uphold; also, looking like he is immersed in literature gives him a very intelligent aura, he thinks, so he tries it often in front of all the Slytherins. Looking imposing and unapproachable is an air he is trying to perfect, just like his father.

You might not like his father, and think the comparison an insult, but Draco feels otherwise. You're a pure blood, you should act better yourself.

Not that Draco cares in the least, he's currently snubbing you. If he shows absolute no interest in you, that you're beneath him, perhaps the rest will as well. Maybe a public exile will make you change your mind on being involved with lowly wizards.

"I hear she's gotten herself involved with a Gryffindor," Pansy giggles, her friends listening avidly. "One of those red haired Weasley twins!"

"What?" Tabitha looks aghast, her eyes flicking to Draco at just the mention of it. "Truly? How embarrassing for her family!"

"How do you know she's involved?" One of the other girls asks, one Draco has seen around but never bothered to learn her name; she's a half-blood anyhow, of no importance to him. 

"They've been seen together in the courtyards, silly! If she's going to hang around with that sorts, I hope her family knows what damage she's doing to their name," Pansy preens, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a superior smirk; she has no issue with tarnishing your reputation, she doesn't like you in the least. You've always your nose trapped in a book, and you're always getting the attention of those you don't deserve! In Pansy's mind, you're ungrateful, and you shouldn't be held on a pedestal.

She'll make sure you're not.

The girls giggle around her, and Draco sighs.

His looks up from his book, letting his eyes drift to the fire crackling in the hearth, eating away at the slabs of wood. He has no issue with gossip, but it irks him when it has to do with you. He doesn't think its anyone's business who you chose to associate yourself with, although he finds the thought quite contradictory.

What's he going to do with you?

You seem to strive to get yourself into unfortunate situations, and Draco suddenly finds the need to repair them for you. The Weasley Conundrum is just a phase for you, everyone goes through it. You'll soon find that mingling with the lower class will get you nowhere, and you'll return to where you belong before it's over and done with. Besides, what can one of those irritating twins offer you anyhow?

No money, they live in a shack with their horde of siblings, and their father works for goodness sake, at the Ministry. How impossibly discouraging. Of course you'll vie away from them in due time, you just have to get it out of your system.

Perhaps you're just doing this to make him jealous.

That is a reasonable explanation in Draco's mind. You're angry at him for the words he spoke at the Yule Ball, and therefore are doing all within your power to show him up. Of course, you're only hurting yourself, Draco has no intentions of speaking to you any time soon, despite how his charms grade might be suffering.

He won't speak to you until you come to your senses. Making him jealous and hanging around Weasley's isn't going to make him break his word. Until you apologize for your despicable behavior, he's going to give you the silent treatment.

Still, even though he might be upset with you, he doesn't want your reputation tarnished. You're going to still want to be respected when you come back to your senses.

He glances at the gaggle of girls, irritated. They're making it hard for him to concentrate on his studies with all their loud gossips, and he finds it irksome. No, he cannot let this continue, he must put an end to it in some way.

"You can't really believe she'd waste her time on a Weasley," he scoffs after a moment, interrupting the girls noisy chatter. "If anything, she's merely toying with him. Do none of you enjoy flirting with the lower class and watching them flounder about?"

He looks at Pansy pointedly, her pale face flushing beneath his piercing gray gaze. "I've seen the lot of you tossing yourselves at the contestants for the cup, no matter the House or breeding. I don't really see where any of you have room to talk."

"Of course you would say that," Tabitha points out haughtily, not about to be quieted; she finds Draco tiresome, and she's past the point of hearing about his father. "You've been chasing her for months. How does it feel to be looked over for one of the lower class?"

"Feels like nothing," Draco snorts, closing with book abruptly. He doesn't have the patience to argue with someone as dimwitted and frivolous as Tabitha Bainbridge, and he's not going to lower himself to it now. "She didn't look over me, Tabitha, no one does."

With that, he rises gracefully to his feet, giving them all an indifferent look before leaving the commons room behind. He'll find somewhere else to read and relax, where he's not bothered by the twittering of small-minded women. Draco doesn't care much for any of his classmates, not even Crabbe and Goyle. He found it hard to have an intelligent conversation with anyone, other then you, of course; you're the only one he... well, he supposes it doesn't matter anymore.

Draco withholds his next sigh as he leaves the Hogwarts dungeons behind, ignoring the Bloody Baron as he argues with the paintings on the walls. The dungeons are cold this time of year, so Draco doesn't linger longer then necessary before he's heading for one of the courtyards, where it should be mostly abandoned.

He's pleased to find himself correct, and walks out into the grass; the sky is cloudy, there's no bouts of sunshine or even a hint of blue above him as he settles himself against the large, proud tree growing there. He sprawls his long legs out in front him, crossing them at the ankle as he rests his book in his lap, his wand tucked in the pocket of his robes.

Peace at last.

Then, "Chase the bloody thing! Don't let it get away!"

"Got it! Got it --- whoops!"

"George!"

"I can't help it, Fred, blimey!"

No.

Not today, not right now!

Draco raises his head sourly as he sees the Weasley twins dash out into the courtyard, their second hand robes flashing behind them as they attempt to catch the ball of sparkling light, probably another one of their crazy inventions. They're hoping and thrashing about, much to the amusement of the students passing by to their classes.

How infuriating.

Draco glances around, seeing the Weasley's are drawing a crowd, students gathering along the edges of the stone walkway, giggling and laughing at the twins as they fumble about. Those two are always doing something to garner attention, but must they do it where Draco is? He rolls his eyes, knowing he's never going to be able to get any studying done so long as the two of them are near.

He spies you the instant you step out of the crowd, looking down at the book open in your arms. You glance up at the spectacle happening before you, but you don't seem the least bit interested. You seem to sigh instead, taking a few steps back and leaning against the courtyard wall; the Weasley's are between you and where you want to be.

Draco hesitates, his eyes flicking to the zipping light and back to you before he gets to his feet, brushing off his robes; it's like he can see exactly what's going to happen.

You grimace, and start making your way around them by the wall, looking back down at the book in your arms; not looking where you're going has always been one of your downfalls, Draco thinks, as he approaches you as quickly as possible. He sends a nervous glance at the zipping light again, seeing the Weasley's still lunging and thrashing for it, their fingers attempting to catch some kind of hold to no avail.

It happens, just as Draco knew it would.

The light gets away from the twins, and though they shout words of alarm, it's too late. You look up just as the light goes right for you, and you merely have time to widen your eyes before it's knocking into you, sending your book flying through the air as you start to fall, feeling as if you've been hit by a Bludger. You gasp, but you never hit the ground.

You blink a few times as you feel someone's arms close around you strongly, keeping you from greeting the grass in a most embarrassing manner. You look up, tilting your head back, your eyes meeting a serious pair of icy grays.

Oh.

Draco.

"Are you alright?" Draco asks softly, keeping his arms around your waist as he helps you regain your balance. He keeps his hand on your lower back, and you find he's standing a little closer then necessary, but he did just save you from being mortified. You blink at him again, almost stupidly; why did he catch you after the argument the two of you had last? Isn't he angry at you too? 

"I'm, I'm fine," you say after a moment, brushing at your school robes, clearing your throat in embarrassment. You look over at the twins just as they manage to grab the light, George's fingers clamping around it and wrestling it to the ground, giving Fred the opportunity to point his wand at it and mutter a spell. "Thank you... Draco."

Draco gives you a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"(Y/N)! Are you alright there?" You hear Fred call, and you turn to look at the twin as he kneels, grabbing your book off the ground and brushing the dirt from the cover. He gives you an apologetic look as he offers it to you. "Sorry about that, bloody thing got away from us."

"Right gave us a fright, too," George says, holding the paralyzed light in his hand, no bigger then a wad of paper. "It's a new invention of ours, ain't it, Fred?"

"Right it is, George!" Fred nods, glancing at Draco; he knows he's the one who upset you on the night of the Yule Ball, but his opinion of the pure blood could not go any lower. "Bloody lucky Malfoy was here, eh?"

"Convenient," George agrees, also sending him a suspicious look. 

"Your invention is dangerous," Draco merely says, refusing to rise to their bait. "You shouldn't have it on school grounds."

"Sure, sure, whatever you say," the twins roll their eyes. "(Y/N), you want to come with us? We're gonna let it loose in the room of requirement tonight, should have the kinks worked out by then."

"That's alright," you shake your head, sighing at the steak of dirt on your book page; that's going to bother you for ages now. "You two go on ahead, I'll be along a while later. I'm behind in charms."

"Ah, charms!" Fred shakes his head as George wanders off, showing the crowded students what he finally caught. "I was pretty good at it when I had to take it, I can give you some pointers if you like."

Draco glares at him; you don't need any pointers, you're already exceptional at it. How dare the Weasley offer his assistance to you! Can't he tell when he's not wanted?

"I'm fine, but thank you." You give the red haired boy a warm smile, one Draco has never seen. It only increases his jealous glower, and his hand drops from your waist as he takes a step away. "I'll see you tonight."

"Right then," Fred shrugs his shoulders, glances at Malfoy, then trots off to join his brother. 

"Thanks for not letting me fall on my face," you sigh as you turn to Draco, holding your book tightly against your chest; you suppose this is a sort of peace offering? Well, Draco did speak to you first, so he broke his vow of silence before you did. 

"I figured something like that was going to happen with those Weasley's around," Draco snorts derisively, and you try not to groan; he can't be nice for more then three seconds, can he? "They never know what they're doing."

"They're just having fun, Draco," you frown at him, which is what he's more familiar with. "There's nothing wrong with making people laugh and be happy."

"It is when you're doing it in a dangerous manner. What if you had fallen and hit your head?" Draco quirks a blond brow down at you, crossing his arms. "You would have had to gone to Madame Pomfrey!"

"It wouldn't have been done intentionally!" you huff, but you do understand what he's saying. Silly games and toys are fine, but they should be done with the safety of others still in mind. Still, it's the way Draco says it, so condescendingly, you can't stand it! Oh, how he makes you angry!

"It doesn't matter."

"Do you have to ridicule everyone, Draco, even when they've not done anything?" You snap, glaring up at him. "I swear you're always finding a reason to put someone down!"

"Me? I was just stating the obvious!" He glares down at you, insulted. "Why do you always find it necessary to find something wrong with what I'm saying?"

"Because everything you say is meant to be mean!" 

"Not everything!" He defends himself, huffing indignantly. "I've never said anything to you, have I?"

"Are you kidding me or yourself?" You mutter, looking down in aggravation. Why can you and Draco not be within five feet of each other without arguing? He would almost be likable if he wasn't such a prat all the time! A spoiled, arrogant, egotistical ---.

Draco's mind briefly flashes back to the night of the ball, and to his surprise, his chest pinches slightly, almost as if he feels bad about what he said, but that's preposterous! Draco never feels remorse about what he says, because he means every single word! 

"Well, if you dislike me so much, go back to hanging out with your Weasley's," he hisses at you, disgruntled and a little hurt you apparently think so little of him; he's always been nice to you, he's made it a point to be. He'd brought you back your charms notebook, he'd sent you flowers on valentines day, albeit anonymously, he knows your favorites are carnations, he'd heard you say it once. "Since they're more your type."

"More my type? What's that supposed to mean?" You challenge, feeling your temper spark. He's not going to get away with rude comments and not expect to explain himself to you! You're sick and tired of his behavior, and you're not going to allow it to just continue like everyone else does! 

"You know exactly what it means! You're choosing lowly ---."

"Don't you even finish that! How dare you speak of them that way!" You bristle, your eyes flaring. "Just because someone isn't as wealthy doesn't mean anything, Draco! If you'll get your head out of your fathers arse, you'd realize what a complete fool you sound! One of these days, you're going to regret being such a git to everyone around you, mark my words! This is the exact reason we don't --- that I --- oh! You're infuriating!" You finally manage, realizing what you almost said. You make a sound of frustration before turning on your heel and storming away, your hands clenched at your sides.

Bother, Draco thinks, glaring after you, what a frustrating woman.

~~~~~~

"So what's this with Malfoy?" Fred asks you, leaning his shoulder against the wall where you stand. You look up at him, biting your lip as such a question. You only come to about mid-center of his chest, he's so tall.

"What do you mean?" You ask lightly, toying with the end of your green sweater; you're in the room of requirement, watching as everyone laughed and cut up from all different Houses. It's a small party, nothing extravagant, but it's away from the eyes of teachers and Filch.

"Blimey, (Y/N)." Fred sighs, brown eyes studying your face. "You two fight like you're married."

"We do not!" You gasp immediately, straightening. "I can't stand him! He's horrible!"

"Well, the rest of us know that," he says, raising one eyebrow, "but you two seem quite cozy."

"We're not cozy, Fred, not in the least." You shake your head immediately, tugging nervously at the end of your braid. "He's a horrible person, and he knows it. He only pretends to like me because of my family name, nothing more." You admit; you find it a little embarrassing, as if you're saying that no one likes you otherwise, but it's the truth. 

Fred doesn't immediately say anything, his eyes on the rest of the party going on around you. You're not much for parties, you don't like large crowds, you'd only come because Fred had asked you too; the two of you have become right good friends the past few weeks, although you're not sure how long the friendship will last.

Still, it's nice to have someone around who isn't stuffed up their fathers ---.

"I don't know, I think he actually likes you." Fred says, interrupting your thoughts. "He's been chasing you for months."

"Oh, why does everyone say that?" You groan, exasperated. "Draco doesn't like anyone but himself, that's clear."

"Well, I doubt he even likes himself," the ginger grins, tugging on the end of your braid playfully. "But you're a right likable girl, you know."

"Mmm, tell that to my classmates." You know many of them don't like you, but you've never minded. As long as no one bothers you, you don't care about their feelings. "I seem to not be very popular."

"Eh, popularity is overrated. Look at me and my brothers."

"Are you kidding? The class clowns?" You tease, seeing his pale cheeks flush. "You're the life of the party most nights!"

"Well, someone has to keep it interesting!" he says, gesturing about the dullness of the room. "Look at this lot; all boring prudes. Oi, George!"

"Yeah, Fred?"

"How about we make this a little more interesting?"

"I was thinking the right same thing!"

You laugh as Fred and George both toss themselves into the center of the room, raising their wands at the same time as they hook arms. They begin to dance in a circle, sparks igniting off the types of their wands as they bellow out words to a song you've never heard. There's laughter from around the room, and finally someone does put some music on, at least to drown out their voices!

You stay in the shadows, watching as everyone twirls and laughs, getting caught up in the happiness of the moment. It's nice to see everyone getting along, Slytherins included, and you find yourself smiling as you stay out of the way. Just watching is enough to lighten your mood.

"C'mon, (Y/N)!" Fred says, worming his way out of the crowd of moving people and offering you his hand. "Join in on the fun, yeah?"

"Oh, no, that's alright, I ---."

"Bless it, come on!" He grabs your hand, pulling you after him and into the crowd, ignoring your arguments. You gasp in surprise as he twirls you beneath his arm, laughing at your surprised expression. "Don't be a stick, alright? Have some fun!"

You slightly relent, giggling as he prances around you, your eyes on his face. You see George coming up behind him, grinning from ear to ear as he grabs his brother shoulders, rough housing with him a moment before grabbing you as well.

"You're going to make me sick!" You gasp as he twirls you around, much like Fred had.

George just laughs, his red hair falling around his shoulders, letting go of you to grab Luna Lovegood's hands, drawing her around in circles.

You turn back to Fred, smiling. 

"Alright, so I'm not miserable." you say after a moment.

"Told you! You want to get some drink?"

"Yes!" You're warm, now that everyone is moving around, it's incredibly hot! You feel his fingers take yours. He tugs you to his side, his arm slipping around your shoulder. It makes it much easier to navigate through the crowd, especially since he's so tall he stands so high above them. You two finally make to the door, and you glance over your shoulder as Fred starts to leave, seeing the party behind you in full swing.

Fred has a tight hold on your hand as the two of you leave the room behind, hearing the stones grating as they reform. You're giggling at something he says as you walk, your cheeks bright red. You have to admit, you really enjoy spending time with him, you've never met anyone else who could hold your attention in such a way --- the complete opposite of Draco.

He just infuriates you. A life with him would be a miserable existence, you're sure.

You bite your lip as you and Fred come to a stop, standing on one of the exterior walkways. It's getting cold now, it's close to Christmas time, and you're honestly excited to be going home for the holiday this year. You can't imagine what it must be like for those who have to stay at school during those times.

"Look how nice it is," you say, curling your fingers along the stone, gazing out into the night. The stars are bright, it's just cool enough to be considered chilly, so you're glad for your sweater. The air is still, and you can hear all the sounds of the castle.

"It's a nice place, yeah," Fred agrees, crossing his arms as he looks at you. "Not as nice as you, though."

You flush, sending him a look over your shoulder. "Save your charm, Fred."

"Why should I? I figure I have a reason to use it now. Say," Fred leans down slightly, as if he's going to whisper something to you, "How do you know I'm Fred then, hmm? I could be George!"

"You're not," you merely say; you can tell them apart quite easily.

"And how do you know?"

"Your smile." 

"My smile?"

"Yes. You and George, when you smile, it's different," you reach up, tapping his lips with one finger, "he has a curve right there, whereas you do not. So, Mr. Fred Weasley, there is no fooling me."

Fred's eyes actually light up, and when he smiles, it brings out the mirth in his eyes. "If I ask you to marry me now, do I have to get on one knee?"

You laugh, shaking your head as you turn away, gazing out into the night. You bite your lip as you see lights in the astronomy tower, and you wonder what anyone could be doing out there so late. You find it a tad odd, really, especially since the teacher is such a loon.

"(Y/N)."

"Hmm?" You glance over as Fred comes to lean beside you, propping his arms against the cold stone in a similar fashion. 

"What would you do if I did this?"

"Did what?" you blink.

Fred leans forward, and you go still as his lips press against yours for the briefest of seconds.

Oh.

"That," he says plainly as he leans back, brown eyes on your face; for once, you think, Fred Weasley looks serious. 

"Oh." You say, your mind going blank for once. You... don't know what to do, actually. No one has ever kissed you before. You hesitate, then look up at him, tilting your head slightly.

"I'd ask you why you'd want to do such a thing," you say after a moment, your cheeks tinging the brightest of reds. How can he be interested in you like that? You're a Slytherin, of all things. 

"I'd tell you that I like you, you're pretty and nice, and think of the points I'll get for getting a Slytherin as my girlfriend," he wags his brows at you, and you smack at his shoulder, trying not to laugh. "Figure I'll get myself a right good reputation for it! Dumbledore will say, 'ten points to Fred Weasley for his charm on baggin' himself a Slytherin girlfriend', he will."

"Fred!"

Fred laughs, thoroughly enjoying himself, and you can't help but smile too. You lean forward impulsively, kissing him briefly. When you start to pull away, his hand rises, cupping the back of your neck and holding you still.

Well, tonight has certainly gone differently then you'd thought.

~~~~~~

Draco frowns as he walks the hallways. He does this occasionally, trying to get his thoughts in order, it helps him to pace. He likes feeling the cool night air on his skin, letting his feet take him places while his mind is busy. He finds it rather relaxing, and so nightly strolls is nothing new for him; Filch always turns a blind eye.

He rolls his shoulders with a sigh.

Would flowers work again with you? He knows you're out of sorts lately, that's the only explanation for how harsh you've been. He's not sure what color of carnations you like the best, but he's sure if he just picks one of every color, that might help?

Perhaps he should ask his father, get his advice on the matter. He hasn't revealed yet that things with you have not gone to plan, not that in any case it truly matters. You're both too young for marriage, without careers just yet, and in the middle of your schooling. Is he making a move too early then? Should he wait a few more years?

No, Draco is too impatient, he's not going to wait! He likes you, he wants you to like him as well, although he's not quite sure how that's going to work. Every time he tries to even speak to you, you get such an attitude with him, it's very grating on his nerves.

Still, most girls go all soft at flowers, you had last time. He'd never let you know they were from him, but no one else stole the credit, either.

Hmm.

He glances around, finding his feet have taken him somewhere new tonight. It's rather dark here, so he shuffles his wand from his pocket, muttering, "lumos," under his breath. The tip of his wand lights up immediately, casting a soft warmth to fight the chill of the night. He glances around the brightened hallway, finding that he'd wandered right into the astronomy tower.

He hates astronomy.

He walks a little further, finding himself at the window, gazing out into the night. It's still, there's no breeze, no movement, just quiet. Most of the students, considering it's the weekend, are off enjoying themselves in the common rooms, or are at the room of requirements that Draco had deigned too lowly for him to visit.

He's excited to leave for the holidays, to put the aggravation of you aside for a few weeks and be with his family. His mother has already written him four times this week, so she must be missing her only child quite dreadfully. Perhaps then he and his father can speak, he can garner some advice from the wise elder Malfoy.

Hmph.

He hears laughter, and he looks up, seeing two people walking down one of the exterior walkways; he immediately recognizes the sound of a Weasley, and his nose curls in distaste; can't he have a moment alone without being reminded of his bloody competition? If he even is that!

Wait a moment.

Draco narrows his gaze, leaning his shoulder against the cold stone of the tower as he looks out into the night.

You're with the Weasley, he recognizes your giggles; he's only heard them once, of course, but he knows them.

Oh.

Draco's heart plummets, and his stomach twists itself into rather tight, painful knots as he realizes what's happening. The Weasley is kissing you, even from the distance Draco can see that, and you're not pushing him away.

The Weasley Conundrum has just turned into a problem instead.

Draco turns away, clenching his hand tightly around his wand. He grits his teeth, standing completely still. There's a heavy disappointment in his chest, one he doesn't want to acknowledge; he's usually very good at dismissing his emotions, at compartmentalizing his life and being able to focus on what matters, and yet --- he can't with you.

You...

You who chose a lowly-bred wizard over him.

Draco's lips press into a thin line, his eyes darkening to nearly black as he looks down. There's a sour taste in his mouth, making it hard to swallow. He's angry, very angry, but he holds in it, presses it down, stores it for later. He can feel his skin flush with it, and for a moment, it's all he can do not to scream.

This isn't --- he can't believe this! What does that Weasley have that he doesn't? Why are you kissing him and not Draco? Draco's the one who actually cares about you! He knows your favorite flowers, your favorite class, how much you adore cats but for some reason don't have one yourself --- he's tried every which way to ---.

Dammit!

Why does nothing he try work? Why can't he make you laugh like --- is he truly comparing himself to a Weasley? Have you made him sink so low as to think less of himself, Draco, son of the rich and powerful Lucius Malfoy? Preposterous! Draco refuses!

Damn this!

"Nox."

The light vanishes from the tip of Draco's wand, leaving him standing in complete darkness.

He'll handle this. He is a Malfoy, and nothing bothers him. He has no emotions, he, he --- he refuses to be upset! One day, one day you'll regret not choosing him, you'll regret opting for the low-bred wizard! You'll need Draco eventually, and when that happens, oh will he revel in the moment, will he throw up in your face your indiscretions!

No one turns down Draco Malfoy.

 


	3. Christmas Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You spend Christmas break at the Malfoy's.

Holidays are your favorite. You enjoy the cold weather, the bundling up in coats and sweaters and when it begins to snow. You love the chocolate drinks and sweets that everyone makes, how the time of year seems to bring everyone together. There's Christmas trees and presents, and going home to see your family.

Except this year.

This year blows.

You're very much displeased to find yourself at Malfoy manor this year for Christmas, as the Malfoy's are hosting a large event in order to show off their wealth, you've decided. Being a pure blood and influential family, of course your family is attending and staying for several days despite the fact you'd stated you'd rather go back to school then step on foot in the horrid place.

Well, you have not returned to school.

The manor is impressive, there is no denying that. The gravel driveway is wide with hedges curving alongside it. Halfway you have to stop at a pair of wrought-iron gates, magicked to only permit individuals who are invited,  and to form into some awful face and demand the purpose of anyone else who wishes to enter. You're a little impressed, you wouldn't mind having something like that on your bedroom door at home.

The manor itself is perhaps your favorite. It seemed to grow out of the darkness at the end of the straight drive, lights inside every diamond-paned windows on the lower level. You can see that it's surrounded by an elaborate gardens, and you could hear a fountain when you appeared.

When your family had approached the front door, it had opened on its own, revealing a large hallway that was dimly lit, but of course stylishly decorated with a beautiful carpet covering most of the stone floor. The portraits hanging there unsettle you, however, with their serious faces, blonde hair letting you know they're the past owners, previous Malfoy's.

Your mother seems to know exactly where to go as you and your father trail after her, heading straight down the entrance way to where you can see a bronze-handled door. It opens as she nears, and a bubble of voices are finally audible.

 

You sigh.

You're not going to enjoy this vacation as much as you had hoped. You're nervous, you have yet to tell your parents of the fact you and Fred Weasley have something, that you might be dating, and you'll just die if Malfoy even utters a word about it! You're not sure how they're going to react, despite the fact he's as pure blooded as you are. Still, the fact his family isn't wealthy might be a problem, although your parents aren't nearly as close minded as Draco's.

You bite your lower lip as you enter the drawing room, seeing other guests already crowding about. Your mother makes a happy sound as she finds Narcissa Malfoy, the two hurrying towards each other so that they can embrace like school girls.

You hear your father sigh.

Perhaps this visit was more of your mothers idea then his own. You glance up at him, seeming the same polite expression on his face as yours, but neither of you are where you want to be. You glance around at the drawing room, finding it a tad large for your taste.

The ceilings are extremely high, and large crystal chandeliers dangle from gold chains. There's an overly long table towards the ornate marble fireplace, a gilded mirror above it to reflect the room. The walls are a dark purple, and otherwise the room has the normal furniture one would expect. You suppose the Malfoy's are used to receiving large groups of people, so perhaps the size to them is normal, but you find it rather over the top.

You're sure the rest of their manor is no different.

You spot Draco instantly, standing at his fathers side, both of them talking to some wizards gathered in front of them. He looks rather nice, dressed in tailored black clothing instead of school robes, his blonde hair brushed to the side; you're glad he doesn't slick it down anymore. His father stands proudly beside him, just a little taller now,  holding his cane at his side like he always does.

"Oh, I'm so glad you could come, Helena!" Narcissa Malfoy gushes to her best friend from school, the two women still clasping hands as they come to where you and your father stand, trying to stay out of the way of the other guests. "Hello, Nicolas, (Y/N)."

"Narcissa," your father says with a smile. "You look wonderful tonight."

She smiles, reaching forward to squeeze his hand. "Thank you! Oh, I'm just so happy you're all here."

Obviously.

You just smile at her, but your attention is behind her, on Draco. He's noticed your entrance, and he's glaring at you from across the room! You frown, narrowing your gaze as you lean a little to the right where you can see him better. Yes, he is indeed, glaring at you.

Well, so much for a pleasant holiday. You send him a nasty look before you turn your head sharply, shifting so you no longer have to look at him. You cross your arms, your eyes on your mother and his as they chatter. You and your father don't offer much to the conversation, your fathers hand coming around your shoulders to pull you absently to his side. 

You're their only child, but both of your parents love and dote on you, you'll never question their feelings for you. Much like Draco, you stand to inherit a lot when they pass, and have always had their full attention whenever you wanted it, and even when you didn't. You're closer with your father more so then your mother, you seem to take after him more anyhow.

Your father was a Ravenclaw in school, a brilliant wizard and inventor now that apparently stole your mothers heart seventh year and has held it ever since. You'd always hoped you'd end up in Ravenclaw, but unfortunately, the sorting hat thought differently. You don't like being a Slytherin, you don't like the bad reputation they all seem to hold so highly, either.

You'd rather just be left alone.

"Oh, Lucius, there you are," Narcissa says, turning as she sees her husband in the corner of her eye. "Come say hello to my dearest friend. You remember Helena, yes?"

"Of course. Helena." Lucius gives her a polite smile, bowing his head respectively. "It's not been that long since school, but you don't look any different."

Your mother preens at the compliment; she's very vain, always concerned about her next gray hair or if her face was getting saggy. Your father always gave some demure answer, she could look like a potato but he would never say so; you know he loves her, in his quiet, soft-spoken way. You figure they work together well, your mother loud and friendly, your father quiet and brilliant.

"Thank you, Lucius," your mother replies, and her hand is already reaching for her husbands arm, pulling him into the conversation. "This is my husband, Nicolas. He was a Ravenclaw in school."

"Ah, yes. It explains why your daughter is so brilliant," Lucius says smoothly, his eyes coming to rest on your shorter stature. "My son Draco speaks highly of her, says she's the top of her class."

Right under Hermione Granger, you think, your cheeks turning a bright pink as they all look at you.

"Yes, and he doesn't of most people," Narcissa adds, furthering your embarrassment. What does Draco say about you to his parents? You look away, your eyes flicking to where he still stands with another group, his back to you. Are they just saying that, as parents do?

"I do believe her and Draco work on schoolwork together," your mother says after a moment, her voice thoughtful; you might  have mentioned his name a time or two in your letters home, but you hadn't thought your mother read them all that closely. You're a little surprised, usually it's just you and your father corresponding back and forth. "I hear he's the seeker for his House team."

"Oh, yes, he's one of the best they've ever had," Narcissa brags instantly on her spoiled rotten son, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes. Draco might be a seeker, but Harry potter is by far better then him, although if you say that out loud it's possible Narcissa Malfoy might turn you into a toad. She's nice so far, her blonde hair tied back, blue eyes sharp and calculating just like her sons. She's listening to more conversations then just your mothers, and you can tell she knows exactly what's going on in the room, that she knows exactly how to handle everyone, and she knows exactly what she's saying.

You don't like her much.

Plus, she constantly looks as if she has a bad smell beneath her nose.

Bother.

You'd rather be at home, curled up on your window-seat overlooking the lake, listening to your father reading the newspaper to your mother as she writes the latest gossip to her pure blood friends. You like seeing them like that, chatting back and forth in the drawing room, spending time together and giving each other those secret smiles they don't think you notice.

You're surprised you don't have more siblings.

"Oh look, the Nott's are here!" Narcissa says, clasping her hands. "Draco!"

You watch as she bustles off to where her son stands, going to tell him about the arrival of his childhood friend Theodore. You don't know him very well, you can't remember if you've ever even had a class with him. 

"If you'll excuse me," Lucius gives you all a pleasant smile before stepping away, going to greet the elderly Mr. Nott and his son as they enter the drawing room.

"How many people are going to be here?" you ask uncomfortably after a moment, glad your father still has his hand almost protectively on your shoulder. "Mother, you said this would be a small gathering of friends for Christmas."

"Oh, did I?" Your mother shrugs her shoulders. "It seems Narcissa invited more people then I was aware of. Oh, don't look so sour, (Y/N), you're going to have a good time! You have your friends here from school."

Friends, right.

None of the people here are your friends.

Especially not Draco.

~~~~~~

It's all Draco Malfoy can do not to scream at the top of his lungs the moment you enter his drawing room. He was not aware that his mother invited your family over for the Christmas soiree this year, although he can see her and your mother are very close friends, probably dating back to their school days. 

He's doing his best not to give you a withering glare from across the room, but he seems to fail when you send him a scowl before turning your back to him, gathered with your parents while they chat with another guest. He's having a hard time remembering who most everyone is, but he recognizes those who are close with his father.

He hasn't said a word about you since coming home for Christmas, why in the bloody hell did his mother invite you over? Is it because Draco mentioned you once or twice throughout the school year? Did his father make some errant remark? Perhaps it's not his mothers meddling, perhaps it's just the fact she wished to see her old friend, but she's clever, and Draco puts nothing past her.

Hmm.

He's distracted when Theodore comes up to him, looking bored as he always does. He was born late in life to his elderly father and his wife, although his mother has long since passed. Theodore and Draco were close as children, and have stayed friends throughout their schooling, despite Theodore Nott's fascination with herbology.

"Fancy our fathers are going for a chat," Theodore says, tilting his head back towards the drawing room door. Draco glances, seeing the elder Malfoy and some of his closer friends are indeed leaving the drawing room together.

"As always." Draco murmurs, his eyes flicking back to you. You have your typical braid drawn over your shoulder, and you're toying with the end of your hair, telling him immediately you're either nervous or agitated. You look a lot like your mother, although this is the first time Draco has ever seen your parents. You inherited your fathers hair color, but you get your pretty looks and nice figure without doubt from the primping woman at your side, who sounds like an exact replica of his mother.

He figures she's the Slytherin in the family as well. 

"You still mooning over (Y/L/N), Draco?" Theodore groans quietly, shaking his head. He's tall like Draco, but not as slim, with shaggy blonde hair that's an odd length to his shoulders. His blue eyes are usually bored, as if the world around him holds no fascination for him. Draco has only ever seen his old friend excited when around Madam Sprout, the head of the herbology department.

"I am not mooning," Draco mutters crossly, frowning. "What would give you that idea?"

"The fact you're sending her lovesick looks from across the room, is what. You know I heard she's fancying one of those red haired twins from Gryffindor."

"As if she'd ever lower herself to that level," Draco scoffs immediately, despite knowing without doubt the rumor to be true. He saw you just before vacation, standing out on the walkway letting that Weasley kiss you. Still, he doesn't want your reputation tarnished, especially not at Christmas time. He intends to keep the information to himself, even from his parents.

"Minister! So lovely you could make it!" Draco hears his mother suddenly exclaim, and he sighs as he looks over, seeing the Minister of Magic himself walk into the drawing room, shaking hands with Narcissa.

"Yes, well, I can only stay this night, dear lady," the minister of magic, Cornelius Fudge, informs her, squeezing her soft hands. "I have many duties you know, but I do love your parties."

Narcissa laughs, acting flattered; really, the entire point of inviting the minister was a show of power in her eyes; her husband donates many times to the ministry, it's only natural they would be close. It's always nice to have the Minister backing the Malfoy family, especially should they ever need his assistance.

Draco sees the ploy for what it is.

He turns away with disinterest, instead looking at Theodore, who talks lightly about plants. Draco isn't surprised his friend has broached the subject, and therefore has no issue in tuning him out completely. He glances over at you again, seeing the bored expression on your face. It doesn't change, not even when the Minister goes to your family and warmly greets your father, clapping him on the shoulder and shaking his hand profusely. The two seem to be old friends, your father occasionally does work for the Ministry when they ask, and it's much appreciated.

Your mother looks ridiculously pleased, and Draco sees you sigh, taking a step back so your parents could chat. You glance around, as if looking for somewhere to sit down, finally spying a loveseat beneath the painting of Draco's grandfather Abraxas Malfoy. You sit down rather heavily, propping your chin on your hand as you look about the room.

"Instead of pining, why don't you go talk to her?" Theodore nudges Draco rather impatiently. "Stop being such a git already, it's embarrassing."

Draco flushes immediately, glaring at his friend and crossing his arms stubbornly. "She wouldn't want to talk to me, we don't get along."

"Cause you're a downright prat most times, mate." Theodore informs Draco promptly. "If you go speak nice to her, she might change her mind."

No, Draco sincerely doubts that.

Still, it's rude of a host to let a guest feel unattended, isn't it? Plus, you don't know what he saw from the astronomy tower, and he's probably the only one who knows for sure that you and the Weasley are... something. Draco frowns, and turns away from Theodore, resolutely starting your way.

He refuses to be cowed down by his own insecurities on the matter, and besides, you're the only other person his age including Theodore. You're going to be spending a lot of time together for the next few days, so he might as well call a truce.

You stiffen when he brazenly sits down beside you, keeping the middle cushion between you. He leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees before he looks at you.

"Glad your family could make it," he says after a moment, going for polite. "Our mothers seem excited."

"They were school friends," you mutter, eyeing him warily beneath your bangs; why is he speaking to you? He's mad at you, isn't he? That's all he ever seems to be, but the feeling is usually mutual. "I'm not surprised."

Draco wrinkles his nose at your terse response, straightening a little as he twists to look at you fully. He shoots a glance at his mother, but she's preoccupied entertaining the Yaxley's.

"Look, while you're here, let's call a truce, shall we?" Draco says bluntly, and your eyes flick to his face in surprise.

"A truce?"

"Yes. My mother wants this to go smoothly, it's the first one she's held in years and she's already threatened all our lives over it." Draco sighs as he leans up, looking disgruntled. "It would be nice if I didn't have to worry about you glaring at me across the room."

"Me?" you gasp indignantly, crossing your arms as you glare at him. "You glared at me first!"

"You sent me a dirty look!"

"Only after the one I saw you send me!" You realize how petulant you sound, and you grit your teeth in aggravation. Both of you fall silent, mulling over your next words carefully.

"I'll try to be nice if you are," you finally concede with a sigh, cutting your eyes at him. "But no snide comments or remarks."

"Fine. No accusations or insults."

"Fine."

"Fine."

You glare at each other, then look away, huffing.

Well, better then nothing, Draco supposes. He hesitantly offers his hand in your direction, hoping you don't ignore him and that someone notices.

"Shake on it. We'll be as nice as possible to each other while you're here."

"Well, they said it's rude to be ill towards your host," you mutter, your soft hand taking his; his fingers twitch at how small your fingers are compared to his own as the two of you shake, hastily letting go of each other and turning away.

It's going to be an interesting week.

~~~~~~~

"You never mentioned how good of friends you and Narcissa's son are!" Your mother admonishes the moment you're all shown to your rooms, your luggage waiting for you. Your room is smaller, connecting off of your parents, but it's more then enough for you. It's heavily decorated in useless frilly vases and paintings, with a thick rug and a large fire already keeping the room warm.

"We're not very good friends, Mother," you reply as you open your bags, glancing at her through the open doorway to her room. She stands there, gazing at you with her hands on her shapely hips, frowning. "We just know each other from school."

"Nonsense. Does he have a crush on you, (Y/N)? I saw you two talking on the love seat."

"No, he doesn't, Mother. He was just being a good host." you huff, staring down at your packed clothing. "We hardly get along, honestly."

"Well, it looks to me as if he likes you," your mother states as she crosses her arms. You can see your father behind her, his glasses glinting in the lights as begins silently unpacking his bags, flicking his wand. All the clothing rises smoothly into the air, and he directs it to the waiting wardrobe.

You need to learn how to do that.

Draco does like you, you know that. Well, in his own way, if that counts for anything. He did ask you to the Yule Ball, even if he showed up with Pansy Parkinson of all people on his arm. He did stop you from falling when the Weasley's ball of light knocked right into you, and in the past he's always been as nice as is possible for him. 

"What would it matter even if he did?" You ask, disgruntled. You tug your braid over your shoulder, toying with the end of your hair as you look at your mother.

"Why, it would be wonderful!" Your mother gasps, her eyes lighting up as she clasps her hands. "You two would be adorable together! Oh, and if you were to marry, Narcissa and I would be related!"

"Mother!" You groan immediately, shaking your head. "I would never marry him! He's incorrigible!"

"Posh! He seems right sweet to me, and right handsome, just like his parents. You can't do much better then a Malfoy, darling, you know that. It's hard to find pure blood families anymore, everyone is always mixing with muggles, but I suppose that's no shock, considering how many of them there are these days," your mother rambles, and you do as your father does, quickly tuning her out as you begin unpacking.

You can do much better then a Malfoy, actually. Your mind flicks to Fred, with that shock of red hair and goofy smile. He kissed you so sweetly, whereas you can't imagine Draco ever doing such a thing! 

He's too cold of a person.

~~~~~~~

"So what's this then with Helena's daughter?" Narcissa Black Malfoy asks her son as they stand upstairs in her chambers. She gazes at him in her reflection as she places diamond earrings in her ears, curious. "Helena won't stop babbling about how good of friends you are."

Draco tenses slightly, sitting on the trunk at the foot of his parents bed. His father is still absent, although dinner will be served soon, so he should be reappearing with all his friends from the study. He'd honestly come to seek his mothers advice about you, but now he's not so sure he wants to breach the subject just yet.

"We know each other from school, she's very smart." Is all he finally says, shrugging slim, black-clad shoulders. "She doesn't like me much."

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco, you're a Malfoy." Narcissa scoffs immediately, taking a step back to smooth her skirts, liking how she appears. "Anyone who's intelligent will like you, if nothing more for your money and influence."

Draco frowns. "She doesn't seem phased by that."

"Because, darling, she has money and influence." Narcissa looks at her son in amusement. "She's one of us, a wealthy pure blood. She doesn't have to worry about marrying up in the world, just down. When she's old enough, she'll have more suitors then she'll know what to do with, just you wait and see. Many will be vying for her hand in marriage just because of her last name. You know how important her father is in the ministry, how his inventions are changing the way magic is used."

Draco has no idea, he doesn't really care.

"So what am I supposed to do then? We can barely stand each other. She's a right ---."

"Don't insult her, Draco," his mother tsks, and he quiets instantly, shifting in aggravation on the trunk. Just talking about you gets under his skin, especially knowing what he does. His mother doesn't understand what kind of person you are, how very little you care about social standards. Seeing your mother tonight, how closely she acts to his own, he knows she would never support a relationship with a low bred wizard like Weasley, although your father he's not to sure about yet, he's so very quiet.

You must get your mannerisms more from him.

"If you're interested in her, you must woo her," Narcissa says after a moment, stepping forward to press a warm kiss against her sons forehead. "A girl like her isn't going to be easily impressed, and being born from a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw means she might be more clever then you." She lightly taps him on his pale, straight nose. "Be sweet to her, Draco, and you might just have a chance."

"But what if I don't want one?"

"You won't find many pure blood families left, Draco, and you won't do much better then a (Y/L/N)." Narcissa says firmly, slipping a bracelet onto her slim wrist. "She's got wealth and influence just from being born, which is more then I can say for a lot of other pure bloods. If you're interested in her, make it obvious, and simply win her over." She says it like it's that simple. "She's not like the girls at your school, you're actually going to have to work for her affections. Now, let's get down to dinner, shall we? Go fetch your father from his study and tell him it's time, and if he's late I'm going to have his head!"

"Yes, Mother," Draco rises glumly, leaving her chambers behind.

Work for your affections?

He's never had to work for anything a day in his life!

~~~~~~

You feel like you've been sat the children's table.

You frown, finding you're at the end of the table with Draco and Theodore Nott, your mother seated right beside Narcissa with your father at her side. Of course Lucius Malfoy is at the head of the table, looking distracted. 

Why are you sitting with Draco? You haven't been this close to him since he stopped you from falling. You glance at him under your lashes as you pick at your food, finding he's chatting amicably with Theodore, who usually is off on his own when he's at school. He's always so quiet, you find you hardly know he exists most times. His father is sitting close to Lucius Malfoy, and the table is full of talk.

At least everyone seems to be getting along.

You look up at Theodore, realizing he's talking about plants, reminding you very strongly of Neville Longbottom. Just listening for a few seconds makes your head hurt, and you sigh as you lean back in your seat. You're not very hungry, it's still quite early to be eating dinner in your mind, and your body isn't used to it.

Besides, you're not fond of spinach.

"Here," Draco shifts, handing you one of the baskets of freshly baked bread. "You'll be starving by tonight if you don't eat something."

"Thanks," you mumble, taking the basket, sending him a curious look when he starts speaking to Theodore again, this time discussing the newest broomstick. Of course his father has bought him the best one on the market, making it possible for him to be even better during Quidditch; you find that completely ridiculous, he's a terrible seeker and he's only on the team because his father bought his way in.

You know this, but wisely choose to remain silent, instead eating your bread and butter. The bread is soft, and warm, and actually much better then the spinach dish before you. You'll be relieved when the appetizer is removed and the main dish served.

Draco sends a sly look at you when he thinks you're not paying attention, instead tearing your bread up into little bits and dipping it into the pat of butter you have on your plate. He told his mother that you hated spinach, but she never listens and served it anyhow. 

He catches his father's eye from down the table, and for a moment, Draco swears the elder Malfoy looks amused as he raises a cup to his lips. 

Did his parents change the seating arrangements last minute? Is that why the three of you are so far down the table, almost to yourselves?

Wait a minute.

Is Draco being set up? Most likely for failure?

Hmm.

"So, (Y/N)," you're a little surprised when Theodore addresses you, a wad of bread in your mouth you nearly choke on. "You're best in charms, aren't you?"

You blink, wondering what's more rude, to continue chewing or spit your food out?

"She's the top of the class," Draco answers for you, giving you time to swallow. "She's in advanced, anyway."

"That's what I thought. I'm not a fan of charms my self, I find them boring. I know Flitwick said that charms are the basis for all magical spells and what not, but past the basics, I've never had a fondness for them." Theodore rambles, sounding more and more like Nott Senior. Draco merely takes a sip of his drink, leaving you to answer for yourself this time.

"I find the more control one has over their ability to charm, the easier it is to cast spells and have them hold." You say after a moment, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's much simpler to cast and have a spell maintain for a larger amount of time the more precise you are when casting it."

"Really? What's the longest you've had one stay?" Theodore is curious.

"A while, I suppose, I've never timed it. I just know in basics, when you charm a teapot to dance, it only lasts a few minutes. In advanced, it can last for hours, as long as you know what you're doing. Flitwick is always so excited when someone does it right he throws us all a small party, so we really don't learn as much as what we could be." You shrug your shoulders, and for a moment, Draco can't help but admire you.

You really are brilliant, aren't you?

"Interesting." Theodore tilts his head at you, obviously thinking the same thing as Draco. "I find I like Transfiguration better."

"It's all in what one likes," you merely reply.

"Well, I don't see much difference between the two." Theodore continues, as if you never spoke. "You're changing an object to do something that you want."

"Not really." You frown, a bit irked. "Though similar, it's completely different."

"How so?"

Is he challenging you on this subject? You frown a little, seeing Draco once again sipping his drink and trying to act like he's invisible, where Theodore Nott is flat out staring you down as if demanding some explanation to suit his curiosity.

Huh.

"In Transfiguration, you're changing one object into a completely different one. For example, if you changed a teapot into a cup, it's essentially not the same thing anymore, is it? In charms, if you merely give the tea pot legs and the ability to dance, you're just giving it an extra property without changing its essential nature; it's still a teapot, after all."

"True, but there are some spells that are in both categories." Theodore says promptly, and you find yourself growing a dislike for the know-it-all Slytherin.

"Yes, the definitions are somewhat loose, I suppose." You mutter, tearing your bread in half rather forcefully. Draco lightly kicks Theodore under the table, displeased with the fact that Nott has put you in a disagreeable state. How is he supposed to do anything with you when you're all fired up? You'll most definitely find something to jump down his throat over!

"Well, Herbology is much more straightforward," Theodore says, changing topics, and it's all Draco can do not to groan; can the boy not shut his trap for five minutes? Why is he feeling so talkative tonight whereas usually words must be pried out of him?

The Malfoy is immensely relieved when the main dish arrives, interrupting the most boring conversation of his life.

~~~~~~~

"Draco, be a darling, would you, and see what your father is doing?" Draco's mother calls as she freshens up. "Helena and I are going for a walk in the gardens, and I was truly hoping your father and the minister along with Nicolas would like to join us."

"Father left with Mr. Nott about an hour ago, said he'd be back around lunch," Draco replies, fixing the button on his cufflink. 

"Pity. I was going to get him to interrogate Helena's husband, learn a little more about his work. I was unaware of how close he and the Minister appear to be."

Draco doesn't respond, giving himself a once over. He's dressed nicely in a black sweater and slacks, his shoes polished, his hair brushed and in place. The collar of his white shirt is ironed perfectly, and he feels he looks very respectable.

Maybe you'll notice.

"You did very well at dinner last night, Draco," Narcissa says after a moment as she looks away from the mirror in the drawing room, giving him a warm smile. "I'm very impressed with Miss (Y/L/N), she certainly knows her magic."

"She's brilliant, yeah."

"As you are. Why don't you ask her to walk with us through the gardens? You can show her the gazebo," his mother adds with a coy smile, and Draco flushes.

"She's not, uh, she likes book more then she does chatting, Mother." Draco says after a moment, much to his mothers disappointment. "She would probably rather be eaten by a dragon then go for a walk with me anyway."

"You never know until you ask, my sweet," Narcissa sighs at him, brushing an errant blond hair down. "Don't be nervous, its unbecoming. I'm going to get Helena, and I'll mention she should bring (Y/N), how about that?"

"No." Draco says instantly, disliking the idea of his mother having to force you to be in his company. "That's alright. I was going to be with Theodore anyhow, I already said I would. You two go enjoy your walk, but take a coat, it's getting cold quickly today."

Narcissa clucks, pressing a kiss against his forehead before leaving the drawing room.  She does love her son, but she wishes he would be a tad braver.

~~~~~~~

"Nicolas! You can't possibly wear that coat!"

"... What's wrong with it?"

"Look at the sleeve! You've got a tear!"

"Oh, that," your father twists, looking down at where the blue material of his coat is torn just at the bend of his elbow. "I caught it on the metal leg of my new invention, it's ---."

"I don't care how you did it, my love, just that it's been done," your mother sighs. "Do change, I can't have you looking like you're wearing second hand clothing on our walk."

Your father actually grimaces, and you hide your smile behind your book as you sit on the windowsill, your legs curled up to you. You've been trying to read your newest novel, but your parents conversation is proving to be more entertaining.

"I was actually thinking about going downstairs to speak with Yaxley about his work in Magical Law Enforcement. You two go on and have fun," your father squeezes your mothers ringed fingers. "I'll see you at dinner."

"Oh, all right," your mother pouts, and quickly leaves the room.

You and your father both sigh in relief.

"Nice save, Dad," you say with a chuckle, lowering your book to your lap slightly. "Are you really going to see Mr. Yaxley?"

"No." Your father shakes his head, shifting his glasses higher on his nose. "But I'm not going downstairs to have my ears bleed because of inane gossip, either. I'm going to the library, I hear the Malfoy's have an impressive one. Want to come, love?"

"No thanks." You lightly lift your book. "I'm settled, I think."

"Alright, I'll see you at dinner. Oh," your father pauses in the door, frowning, "make sure to wear one of the dresses your mother packed for you. Tonight is supposed to be important, she wants us to look nice."

You groan.

"How about you wear the dress and I wear some trousers?"

"You know that's frowned upon in polite society."

You smile, and your father returns it before he leaves, off to find the enormous library. You sigh again, relaxing back against your plush pillows as you turn your gaze out the frost-covered window. You sort of like Malfoy manner, it might seem a little dark but it's beautiful in it's own way. The snow hasn't quite come yet, but it's getting there, the clouds dark and gray as they roll across the sky. You're kind of excited to see what the snow looks like here, covering the expansive gardens you see out your window.

You blink, biting your lip as you see Malfoy walking down one of the paths, talking to Theodore. He looks up, as if feeling your gaze, and you feel your face flush immediately; you give an awkward wave from the window seat, and after a moment he returns it before listening to whatever rambles Theodore says.

Maybe this truce between the two of you isn't so bad after all, it seems to be working quite well.

Hmm, you'll see.

~~~~~~~

"There, now you look like a doll!" Your mother says happily as she fixes your hair, making sure the curled strands fall down your shoulder, above the sheer material of your dress. You sigh, bored as she fusses over your appearance; the fact you're even wearing a frilly dress with a bow cinched at your back should be enough to please her.

Even your father is wearing his black suit jacket, looking nice and respectable, much like he does when he goes to the Ministry; looking at him now, you can see how he gains respect just from his presence, that he has an aura of authority. Relaxed in his casual clothes at home, he's just your sweet, quiet natured father.

Now you can see what drove your mother mad over him.

"Well, let's not be late, darlings," your mother says, her hair twisted intricately over her head as she heads for the door, dangling earrings glimmering in her ears. "I want to make sure we get there on time. I can't wait to see what Narcissa has planned for entertainment tonight!"

You hope it's better then her dinner choices.

You and your father follow your mother through the manor and downstairs, gathering with the rest of the guests as they amble towards the dining room. You're irked as you find yourself placed beside Draco again, who looks quite nice in his rich black sweater. Oddly, Theodore doesn't appear, leaving just the two of you with your father seated on your right.

You glance at Draco, but he doesn't look bothered by his friends disappearance, instead listening up the table at what his father is saying, thanking all of his guests for being there --- you don't see Nott senior either, did they leave? Actually, now that you notice, several members from last night are missing, all of them the ones who disappeared off with the elder Malfoy yesterday.

Curious.

"So, tonight, we're going to have some wonderful entertainment after dinner," you hear Narcissa say, but you miss the rest of it as you quite frankly don't listen. You've just gotten into the middle of your book, only to be interrupted! You frown down at your food, seeing the bits of green around the edges, much less on your plate then all the others, you notice.

"Here." 

You look over, seeing Draco offering you the rolls once more, his cheeks a little red. "I told Mother you didn't like spinach, but she never listens."

"How did you know I didn't like it?"

"You never eat it at school," he shrugs, sitting the basket down as you get what you want. "You avoid it like you do Pansy Parkinson."

You chuckle, tearing your roll in half. "She's a right gossip, she gets under my skin."

"I do believe that's her talent."

You don't disagree. 

"She's taken up with Tabitha Bainbridge, they're the gossip queens of the commons room," Draco continues conversationally, picking at his own food. "If you want to know the latest, you just have to sit near them."

"Is that how you know everything?" You ask in amusement, taking a bite of your bread. Draco nods his head, absently reaching for the butter and putting it near you.

"You wouldn't believe the things they talk about."

"Oh, I think I would," you sigh, taking a pat of butter. "Pansy always gives me this nasty look when I'm in the same room as her, so I don't expect sitting near is plausible."

"Well, you're better for it anyhow," Draco says with a shrug of his shoulders. "You get too close her mouth might become contagious. Next thing I know, you'll be right in the midst of them, yapping about the newest trend in accessories."

You snort, smiling slightly. "Do you think so? Couldn't you see me with a bird as big as Hagrid in my hair?"

Draco grins. "Anything you wear in your hair would be the next fashion rage. Try some fruit like Hannah Abbot."

You giggle, unable to help yourself as you remember the lemon hair bands the girl had wore in her pigtails. Draco straightens immediately at the sound, pleased with himself. His mother gives him an encouraging smile from the top of the table, raising her goblet to her lips.

"I can see it now. Maybe I'll try some slices of oranges," you decide, relaxing into your chair beside him. 

"Why not grapes? You can make a crown out of them."

"Mmm, I'm very glad hats are going out of style. I don't think I can stand the sight of another fruit basket parading down Diagon Alley."

"You and me both. Quite dreadful, some's tastes."

"Well, not everyone can be as stylish as you, Draco," you say after a moment, but your voice is soft, not at all full of the contempt he's used too. "We don't all have your sense of fashion."

Draco chuckles, his cheeks flushing. So you think he dresses nicely? Did the sweater work out after all? 

"Mother has this big dance planned tonight, with a live band and everything." He says after a moment, and your face pinches. "Do you want to escape with me to the gardens instead? There's supposed to be an eclipse tonight, we can see it from the gazebo quite easily."

"That sounds much better then being forced to dance," you agree with a sigh, keeping your voice just as soft as his; you know your mother will have a fit when she realizes she can't find you and force you, but you'd rather a Hungarian Horntail roast you alive then spend another moment on a dance floor.

So, after an uneventful dinner, and during the move between rooms, you and Draco manage to sneak away. Conveniently, Narcissa Malfoy holds your mothers rapt attention during the escape, though both fathers do notice the sudden ditch down the side halfway in silence. Your mother is quite peeved when she realizes your missing, but is soon swept away in the festivities and your absence forgotten.

~~~~~~~

"Wow, it is beautiful out here," you say, your breath visible in front of your face as you follow Draco through the winding garden paths. You keep a little to the side, your arms held tightly around yourself to fight off the frightful chill in the air; you'd stopped to grab your coats along the way, but you're still not very warm yet.

"Mother likes the flowers in the summer, she keeps it nice and trim out here," Draco shrugs his shoulders, the mos growing across the pathways the farther you walk keeping your steps quiet. "Her and father take walks out here often."

"Your parents seem very nice," you offer after a moment; this is the first time you've ever met them, but they've been nothing but pleasant. You've heard what people say about them, especially the pompous Lucius Malfoy, but he seems much more distracted and stressed then he does arrogant and demeaning; of course, it could also be due to the fact that everyone in his household is pure blood, and he has no one to belittle.

"So do yours. Your mother and mine are very similar."

"They were raised the same, I suppose. They were best friends during their time at Hogwarts."

"Your mother was a Slytherin?"

"Of course. My father was Ravenclaw, though, but he caught her attention seventh year and they got married right after graduation." You state, shivering; you're not sure how long you can stand being outside, even if there is an eclipse. "It's not odd for Ravenclaw's and Slytherin's to match."

"No, it's not." Draco agrees, seeing the gazebo starting to come up ahead. You look relieved, hurrying over to it. You sit down on one of the white benches, and Draco goes for the bench with a blanket tossed over it, lifting up the blanket and revealing that the bench also serves as a trunk. You blink, watching as he lifts it up. He pulls another, clean blanket out of it, as well as a bottle and two glasses before moving back to your side.

"Did you bring me out here to get me drunk?" You ask he sets the bottle between the two of you, offering you the clean blanket, which you take gratefully; your dress is certainly no protection from the cold of London's Christmas air. 

"No, but it helps keep you warm," he shrugs his shoulders, pouring you both some. "You don't have to drink if you don't want too."

But he does; he finds himself suddenly nervous, aware that he's completely alone with you and neither of you have yet to tear the others head off. He holds the glass tumbler in his hands, raising his head to gaze up at the moon as it lights up the gazebo, the stars bright and close tonight.

You curl your nose as you sip the liquid, not liking the taste at all; it's admittedly your first sip of alcohol, you don't have very much at your own home unless there are guests, and you've never been interested in it. Draco doesn't seem phased at all.

"So where's Theodore?" You ask after a moment, tucking the blanket around your legs to fight the cold. "He disappeared."

"Oh, he and his father had something come up, they had to leave suddenly," Draco shrugs his shoulders. "They should be back sometime tonight, I believe."

"Oh, so they left just in time to miss all the wonderful dancing?"

"It appears so."

You look at him curiously, seeing how relaxed he is as he leans back against the bench, long legs sprawling out in front of him. The moon is highlighting his features, which aren't bad in the least, very pleasing to the eye, actually. You've always found Draco good looking, it's just his attitude that's always ruined him for you.

Tonight, though, he seems so... normal. At school he's always ready with some biting remark, ready to tear someone down to the quick or put them in their place. At his home, he's much more relaxed, and you haven't heard him say one errant word that's overly cruel. Perhaps it's because he's in his element here, that it's his home or where his family is, although they've certainly raised him to hold their same views.

Still, seeing Draco like this, it makes you think of him a little differently.

You hear the clink of the bottle, and look down as Draco pours your tumbler half full; you hadn't even realized that you'd sipped it dry, too lost in your thoughts. You give him a small smile, glancing up at the sky; you can just about see lunar eclipse.

You shiver, but the brandy is helping, you don't feel as cold now. 

"Why can't we be this nice to each other at school?" You ask after a moment, blinking as you look at the blond boy beside you.

"I don't know, you're usually mad at me."

"Because you're being cruel to others, generally."

Draco shrugs his shoulder, tilting his tumbler back and draining the brandy. You raise your brows, but don't comment at how easily he does. He doesn't want to start a fight with you, not right now, so he ignores the comment.

He looks down at his glass, shifting it a little in the bright moonlight to watch it sparkle.

"What's your favorite color of carnation?" He asks after a moment, watching your glass still almost to your lips.

"What?"

"I know carnations are your favorite flower, but what color?" He asks plainly.

"Oh, um... pink. How did you know they were my favorite?"

"I overheard you mentioning it to Rachel back when she was gushing about some roses some boy got her."

"Oh. Wait, did you send me those carnations on Valentines Day?" you gasp, suddenly putting two and two together; you couldn't keep them alive, you have absolutely no green thumb, but those are the first flowers you'd ever received not from your parents, and you'd treasured them as long as they'd lived. "Draco!"

The redness on his cheeks are all the affirmation you need, and you can't help but soften slightly.

"That was very kind of you." You say after a moment; why did he send you flowers? Did he feel bad for you because he knew you wouldn't get any otherwise?

"Did you like them?"

"Yes. But I couldn't keep them alive very long."

Draco chuckles, relaxing. He feels warm now thanks to the brandy, and not quite so nervous anymore. He rests his arm along the back of the bench, setting his empty glass down but not bothering to refill it.

"That's alright, I'll send you some more."

You almost smile, but quickly shake your head. "That's alright. I mean, I appreciate the gesture, but ---."

"I want to send you flowers," Draco interrupts you, and you look up, finding those piercing gray eyes are on yours, making your cheeks heat in the cold winter air.  "I'll send you any kind you want, every day of the week, if you wish it."

"Draco ---."

"You know I'm crazy about you, don't you?" he asks, twisting a little so that he's facing you, finally having the courage to admit what he's been wanting to say to you for months. "Everyone knows I'm mooning after you, I have been for months."

You stare at him, your face turning a bright red visible in the moonlight. You...

"I --- I mean, I didn't ---."

Draco sighs. "I thought you knew, anyhow. I've tried every which way in getting your attention. I thought asking you to the Yule Ball would finally break the ice."

"You waited too long, you should have asked me earlier." You grumble, setting your glass down.

"Would you have gone with me if I had?" Draco perks up at those words, realizing the implication behind them. You hesitate, pressing your lips together, the brandy still fresh on your tongue.

"Perhaps," you say after a moment, twisting the blanket nervously between your fingers, daring to glance over at him. "If you had asked very nicely."

"I thought I did ask nicely."

"You told me rather then asked me," you correct him, shaking your head, and Draco can't help but admire the way the moonlight makes your eyes glitter, how your long lashes cast shadows down your cheeks. He wants to reach forward, brush his fingers down your skin, see how soft it is.

"What do you consider nicely then?" His blond brows furrow. "Should I have brought flowers and groveled at your feet?"

"It would have been a nice sight," you giggle, imagining it now. Draco pulling a bouquet out of his sleeve like a muggle magician, falling to one knee and thrusting them at you in one of the courtyards. 

Draco flushes, but he likes your giggles, that's twice tonight he's heard it and he never wants to stop. He shifts a little closer, sliding his arm more firmly behind you, but you don't seem to notice.

"What if I asked you out now?" he asks softly, and you hear the tinge of nervousness in his tone. "Right this minute? I can conjure up some flowers if I have too."

You hesitate, your eyes flicking to him, suddenly tense. Is he serious? Ask you out?

"Draco, you don't really like me, you ---."

"I have never liked a person more in my life," he interrupts you, completely honest for once. "I have done literally everything I know to get into your good graces, but I'm, I'm running out of ideas. If you don't like me, just tell me."

Oh.

Well, you --- you don't, do you?

Your mind immediately flicks to Fred, the kind smiles, the cutesy winks that make you laugh. What are you doing, sitting out here with Draco, listening to him admit his feelings for you when you should walk away because you're maybe sort of spoken for? Honestly, you're not sure, Fred hasn't officially asked you out in any way, just hung around you much more since he kissed you on the walkway.

The past few days, you can say you like Draco here much better then at school, at least. He's much nicer, very polite, hasn't said one cross comment about anyone. His parents are kind, obviously doting on him, and, well, you find him sweet.

He sent you flowers, when no one else remembered you existed.

I look down at your hands, twisting nervously in the blanket across your lap as you take a deep breath. You're not sure what you're going to say, your chest pinches as you turn to Draco, lips parted to say something.

Draco doesn't give you the chance.

His warm hand rises, cupping your jaw as his lips descend upon yours. You still immediately as you feel the soft pressure of them, how light and gentle their caress is. Your hand rises to his shoulder, of course with intent to push him away, but your fingers betray you, instead sliding upward to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck.

Draco must be dreaming. Did he really gain the courage to kiss you? Are you truly kissing him back?

He'd expected you to pull away, to hiss something vile at him in the night before storming off in a tizzy. He thought perhaps you were going to tell him you never liked him, and this might be the only chance for him to ever tell what you taste like. He's beyond surprised to find you kissing him back, your pliable lips moving shyly against his own. You're warm in his grasp, and he finds his hand slipping down to your waist, pulling you closer to him as he tilts his head for a better angle.

You both completely miss the lunar eclipse.

Your arms wind their way around his neck, his hand bracing against the bench at your hip as he leans into you.

You have lost your mind, you simply know it. What are you doing, kissing Draco Malfoy in his gazebo? Why are you lips parting at his teasing tongue? You don't know what to do, you've never been kissed this way --- you've only ever been kissed once! 

He tastes like brandy, and you catch a whiff of his cologne, a dark scent that fits him perfectly. He's kissing you a little more eagerly now, not holding back like before, and he twists so that you're leaning back into his arm, that he's partly over you, shielding you from the moonlight.

Draco loves the way you taste, how soft and sweet you are in his arms. You're shy, he doubts you've ever kissed anyone like this --- oh, how it grinds him that Weasley was no doubt your first kiss, when Draco should have been the one for that honor!

Well, that's fine --- you must not like the Weasley too much if you're kissing him anyhow, right? You grow a little bolder, tightening your grip in his hair, your tongue starting to move against his own in the most interesting manner.

Draco has so much to teach you, and his hand slips to your waist, liking how the dress clings to your curves; he likes the style on you, he meant to tell you earlier that you looked nice but the thought slipped his mind. You're always pretty, but your mother had you dolled up tonight, and your eyes, they really stand out, all glittery and calculating.

Sometimes he thinks you're too smart for your own good.

You sigh against his lips, your fingers resting against his chest as you press into him a little more, liking how warm his embrace is compared to the coldness of the night. His fingers tighten around your waist, and you feel them start to slowly lower, brushing against your hip, starting down ---.

There's a sudden popping noise, very loud, and then you hear a pained groan and a gasp. You and Draco freeze, and you pull apart hastily, almost guiltily, as if you're doing something wrong. You both stare with wide eyes at the crumpled form at the base of the gazebo steps, dressed in black robes and writhing on the ground.

"Draco ---." you start worriedly, but the boy is already moving, rushing to the fallen form. You jump to your feet immediately, the blanket tumbling to the ground as you hurry forward, hovering nervously atop the steps.

Who is that? Where did they come from!?

"Lucius," the writhing form wheezes, a raspy voice you certainly don't recognize. Draco pauses, his hand hovering above the pained form before his serious eyes flick to you.

"(Y/N), run inside and get my father."

"But ---."

"Now!" Draco barks, his tone sharp, and you jump slightly. Normally, you would be cross with him at such a tone, but under the circumstances, you don't say another word. You immediately rush off, hurrying towards the manor. 

You practically toss yourself through the doors, rushing for the drawing room where you can hear music and loud laughter emanating into the hallway. You step through the open doors, finding Lucius Malfoy immediately. He's seated at a small round table, cards laid out before him as his wife sits beside him laughing.

You make a beeline for him, hardly noticing anything else about the room, panicked. Lucius notices you as you approach, Narcissa following his gaze and quickly distracting the rest of the table as you reach him.

He takes in your messed hair, pale complexion and wide eyes.

"M-Mr.Malfoy ---."

"What is it?"

"Draco, he --- he needs you in the garden," you say softly, hoping no one else hears you; you're not sure what's going on, but it's got you quite upset, and you don't know what to do. Why was that man laid out on the ground? Is he hurt? How can the older Malfoy help? Draco ---?

"Where in the garden?" Lucius is already rising, sending his friends a polite smile and lame excuse, grabbing his cane immediately.

"At the gazebo ---."

"Thank you, (Y/N), do stay here and keep my wife company," he says, already brushing past you so quickly you feel the breeze from his robes. You hover in place anxiously, watching him go, only turning when Narcissa Malfoy calls your name and past the vacated seat, requesting you join her for the rest of the game.

You sit reluctantly, perfectly aware she's keeping you from returning outside, where you really want to know what's going on.

What's happening at Malfoy Manor?


	4. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for Draco Malfoy to have a little competition.

You're nervous, incredibly so.

You're not sure how you should be handling the whole situation, after all. Two days ago, while kissing Draco of all people, an injured man had appeared quite literally out of thin air.

Who was he? Was he hurt? Why hadn't the Malfoy's made any mention of him? Why haven't you? Why are you pretending as if nothing is wrong, all polite smiles and nods? You owe the Malfoy's nothing, especially not Draco, so you should at least tell your parents!

Yet you haven't.

Draco hasn't spoken to you, not even at dinner and since Theodore has returned he's never alone. You notice his parents keep sending you looks, and you can't tell if they're curious or wary of you. You want to know what's going on, but honestly don't want to ask nor really know the answer.

So, when the holiday is almost over, when the next day you're to leave so as you can spend actual Christmas at home, you figure you'll never know anything about the situation.

You're packing your things away, your parents out at the moment. Narcissa and your mother have been hard to separate the entire visit, as if they're pinned at the hip. Your father and Yaxley seem to be getting along well, or your father is just telling your mother that so he can continue to hide in the library.

You sigh as you fold a sweater, tossing it into your bags. You hesitate as there's a knock on your door, biting your lip. Who could that possibly be?

You hesitate, glancing at your things before flicking your wand. After a moment the rest of your clothing begins to pack itself, a nifty spell your father finally taught you this week. There, now everything looks much neater.

You move towards the door tugging it open and blinking as you're greeted with black robes. You tilt your head back, tensing as you realize the master of the house, Lucius Malfoy, is standing before you. His white blonde hair is held back at his nape, his cane is held tightly in hand, and he looks as imposing as ever. 

"Hello, Miss (Y/L/N)" Lucius greets coldly, his eyes flicking behind you.

"Mr.Malfoy, my parents aren't here," you shift your weight nervously, noticing Draco standing behind his father with crossed arms, looking uncomfortable. He's just looking at the floor, not giving you any notice at all, which immediately miffs you; did he feel awkward about the snogging? Did you not do something right?

"I am here to see you actually," the older Malfoy says, shaking his head, "May we come in?"

"Of course," you mutter, hastily stepping back out of the way; is this about the other night then? Surely Draco left out the part about  the snogging, that certainly couldn't be todays topic of conversation?

Your cheeks heat at the memory as Draco follows his father, and you feel a slice of guilt as you think of Fred, as if you've done something wrong. You and Fred made no plans, of course, he hasn't officially asked you out either.

"I want to thank you for not saying anything about our surprise guest the other evening ," Lucius Malfoy says after a moment, when the door is firmly shut and it's just the three of you. "I know it must have been quite a shock to have him apparate like that."

You hesitate, your eyes flicking to Draco before merely nodding, unsure what to say. Draco is looking at everything but you, his hands held tensely behind his back. He looks very uncomfortable and like he'd rather sink into the floor.

"I know this is a strange request, but it would be in all of our interests if you didn't mention it to anyone, not even your parents," Lucius continues and your eyes rise to his for the first time; you know he knows you at least haven't told your mother, for she would have already approached Narcissa with it. "Our guest would be most embarrassed."

Ahuh. You find that unlikely, but you're not going to press the issue. You sort of don't want to know anything at all, if you're being honest. You find ignorance is bliss in most sketchy situations, although you are curious as to what the Malfoy's are hiding. 

You'd heard through enough gossip to know Lucius was a Death Eater to the Dark Lord back in the day, and that his family was most likely still caught up in that mess; you're glad your family wasn't involved in such nonsense.

"I don't find it any of my business," you say after a moment, toying with the end your braid. Lucius raises a brow at you, but he finds it a good enough answer.

"You are a friend to this family, (Y/N)," he says after a moment, glancing at his son; Draco had assured him over and over you could be trusted, that you wouldn't say a word, and for your sake, Lucius hopes that's true. "I hope to see you visiting more often in the future."

Yeah, you doubt that. You say nothing as he starts for the door, giving the slightest nod to Draco, who relaxes slightly. Now what's that about?

Lucius leaves with a few polite words, leaving you and Draco alone. The blond boy shifts nervously a moment, as if gathering his courage before looking at you fully, exhaling heavily.

"I um... are you excited to be going home?" he asks after a moment, giving you an almost timid smile. He, for one, will be glad to have his home back, without so many people to entertain; Theodore to be exact.

"I suppose it'll be nice for it to be just us again," you shrug your shoulders as you cross your arms. You stare at him, wondering why he's still standing there, why didn't he leave with his father.

"Ah, yes, well, I..." he hesitates again, then sighs, slowly bringing his hands from behind his back. You stare, blinking as you see he holds a small, emerald wrapped box in his hand, complete with a silver bow. Did he get you a present? 

"Here." he offers it to you nervously. "Um, open it on Christmas, if you like"

"You got me a present?" You sound as surprised as you feel as you gingerly take it from him, twisting it in your fingers. "Draco-." 

"Father thought I should give it to you now, instead of just letting the owl deliver it, in case..." Draco trails off, too embarrassed to finish. In case you don't like it, want it, or want anything to do with him.

"That's so sweet of you, Draco, thank you!" You say, curling your fingers around the box with a genuine smile. His pale cheeks flush immediately, and he merely nods his head, not knowing what else to say. 

You bite your lip, the step forward, your soft lips pressing gently against his warm cheek, causing them to redden more. "I mean it, this is very thoughtful of you."

"I just hope you like it," he mumbles and you just smile.

"I'm sure I will."

"Would you like to see something, before you leave?" Draco ask suddenly, struck with a wonderful idea. You pause, then nod your head; you're dong packing after all, and it's not like your parents will be returning shortly. It'll be nice to get out of the room for a bit.  
"Come with me."

~~~~~~~~

Wow!" You whisper, stepping forward to gaze out the open, stone window. You and Draco are high in one of the towers, and although it's cold, the view is completely worth it. You can see all the gardens, stretching all around the manor. You can see the fountains, how the moonlight glitters off the shifting water, the night sky cloudless and bright. "This is beautiful!"

"I thought you'd like it," Draco says. Pleased as he stands a few steps behind you. "I come up here to think or when Mother has too many guest over."

"Does she often?"

"More than you think."

You smile, and twist, gesturing him to join you at the window. He hesitates before moving to your side, letting his arm brush yours. You don't mind, you've actually seen a side of Draco the past week you never would have imagined.

Draco can actually be a pleasant person.

"It's beautiful up here," you comment seeing the stars twinkle.

"Yes." Draco agrees, his eyes studying your face. He's waiting for you to make a comment about the other night, to just ask, but you don't. You don't mention it at all, instead just stand beside him enjoying the view.

"I wanted you to see it before you left, but I wasn't ---." Draco cuts himself off, not wanting to admit his uncertainty.

You bite you lip, gazing out at the gardens a few more moments before you look at him. You feel guilty for letting him kiss you, but admittedly you'd liked it; Draco is a very good kisser. However you're not sure it should happen again. He's been wonderful here at his family manor, but what happens when you return to school? Won't he just return to the same arrogant, degrading Malfoy he normally is?

Will anything be different?

"Draco?"

"Yes?" Your voice is so soft in the cold air, he nearly doesn't hear it. Those ice gray eyes of his go to yours immediately, aware his arm is still touching yours, just enough warmth to keep you both from shivering.

"Are things going to be different when we return to school?" Your eyes seem so bright tonight, demanding all of Draco's attention, he can't seem to look away from them. They seem to sparkle, and he finds himself leaning into you, wanting to be closer.

"What do you mean?"

"I've...I've actually enjoyed your company the last few days," you admit, flushing beneath his gaze. "I don't want to go back to school and you return to being a major prat to everyone."

Draco grimaces; he can't help it, being at home is where he can relax, but when he's at school he has a reputation to keep. He can't just be nice to every witch and wizard he comes in contact with, especially if they're of lower social status. If his parents heard that he was fraternizing with the lower class--. 

"I like spending time with you like this, even when you're insulting me," he adds with a hesitant smile, "I hope when we go back to school, it won't be the same. You won't look at me like I stole your cat or something."

You roll your eyes, finding you don't mind him being so close to you, his cologne is soft and dark, but completely fitting for him. "You just want help with your Charms homework."

"Well, since you're offering--."

"Draco!"

He chuckles, and he shifts so that he's facing you, causing you to look up at him.

"You're one of the smartest witches in our class, (Y/N). I know you'll always be better at charms than me." He doesn't add he only takes advanced so he can spend time with you.

"Smartest behind Hermione Granger, you mean," you grumble. Almost pouting as you remember she'd beat your score by 3 points.

Draco has to stop himself from pointing out her mudblood status, knowing the impolite word would only make you unhappy with him again, which isn't what he wants.

You're cute when you pout. Draco likes how your lower lip sticks out, the way you huff indignantly; it's the first time you've ever reminded him of your mother, although he doesn't dare say such a thing; he knows you wouldn't appreciate the comparison.

"Don't worry about her," he says dismissively, running a hand through his white blond hair. "You're the brightest witch I know when it comes to charm."

He wants to add how your blood makes you 10 times the witch Granger is, that you'll go so much farther in life because of it, whereas she will not.

You blush immediately at his words, looking away shyly. Does Draco truly like you then? The way he kissed you, no one else has ever kissed you like that, so... strongly? You're not sure of how to describe it, but there was certainly more passion and heat in his kiss, compared to the soft gentleness of Fred's. The two are so different, it's hard to even compare them.

"I hope school will be different," Draco says softly, and his fingers move boldly, filled now with the confidence one would associate with a pureblooded Malfoy. They brush the hair from your face, and come to stop firmly beneath your chin, tilting it upwards so you have no choice but to look at him. Your eyes flicker on his as you are filled with uncertainty, unsure what to do with yourself.  
"That we'll find ourselves spending much more time together."

"Draco," you murmur, finding yourself leaning into his grip. He loves it when you say his name like that, without any anger or in a condescending tone.

Draco x Reader pg 9

"(Y/N), your name is a whisper on nervous lips as his body shifts, face dipping brazenly towards your own. You close your eyes just as your lips meet, surprised to find it so gentle after before. Your fingers rise, pressing timidly against his chest as you feel his hand along your waist.

He turns until the cold stone wall is against your back, but it isn't what causes you to shiver as your fingers slip higher, arms curling around his neck as you part your lips for his exploring and talented tongue.

How does he know how to kiss like this?

The kiss steadily grows warmer, leaving all pretense of gentleness behind. Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck as he presses into you, and you gasp in surprise as you feel his body flat against yours for the first time, your eyes flashing upward to his.

There's a glint in his eyes that lead you to believe he's smirking on the inside, his lips too busy working their way across your jaw to pull back themselves.

"Draco," your whisper is tinged with nervousness as his heated kisses find their way down. He nips at the sensitive skin of your neck and shoulder, causing an immediate weakness to assault your knees. You tighten your grip on him, the rush of heat abruptly coursing through your body taking you off guard as his hands roam your hips shamelessly. You shouldn't be letting this happen, and yet—well it doesn't feel bad, just unfamiliar, you've never felt this before and you don't understand it.

You shift slightly, biting deeply into your lower lips as your hands roam his slim shoulders, and you press lightly against them, squirming.

"Draco, wait."

Draco hesitates immediately at your words, filled with disappointment as he reluctantly lifts his lips from your neck, his hands tightening where they rest along your shapely hips.

He pulls away only enough to see your flushed face.

"What's wrong?"

"We shouldn't—I mean, I should get back—," you're flustered, your skin is tingling, and you feel silly. You just—well this is very much out of your comfort zone! You've no idea what to do or how to act, and it baffles you that you're even in this sort of predicament.

You look down embarrassed, but Draco seems to understand.

"We can go slow," he murmurs, but the way he says it, the huskiness in his tone—it makes your cheeks burn.  
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

He seems to have such a knack for it though.

"I just—I'm not sure," you suddenly hesitate, too mortified to explain your reluctance; the situation is absolutely bewildering to you.

"Don't worry, for once I'll teach you something," Draco chuckles, his warm palm curving around your jaw. His lips are on yours before you can even muster a response, but you don't argue, trusting he'll do just that.

~~~~~~~~~~~

When Christmas comes, Draco is pleasantly surprised to find an owl at his window, a long box in it's grasp. When he opens it, he finds an ornate black quill, silver and green feathers decorating the end. He can also see the black M nestled in them, and he twists it delicately in between his fingers.

How did you have this made so quickly? He smiles slightly, gazing at the quill; you thought of him for Christmas.

Outside, snow begins to fall for the first time.

~~~~~~~

You're nervous to return to school. You're not sure how you're supposed to act after Christmas break. You're wearing the gift of Draco's, which turned out to be a beautiful necklace, an emerald set in silver, small enough to not be ostentatious, which you appreciate. You hope he liked the feather quill, it had been last minute and you weren't sure what to get him.

You sigh where you sit on the train, so far alone in of the compartments. You have your hair in a long braid down your shoulder, unsure how else to hide the hickey on your neck; you'd been mortified once you saw it, and have tried your best to hide it since.

Draco glances around the platform of nine and three quarters, but he doesn't see you. Crabbe and Goyle stand flanking him as usual, and he can hear Pansy Parkinson's voice through the crowd. His nose curls as he sees Granger talking to one of the Weasley's. 

He knows everyone around him, but he can't find the one person he wants too. He sees Theodore, and gives him a brief nod before stepping up into the train, not wanting to have a conversation.

It only takes him a few minutes of glancing into every compartment he passes to find you, stopping so abruptly Crabbe and Goyle nearly walk into him.

"You two go on," Draco dismisses them with a wave of his hand, seeing you're alone and this is the perfect opportunity. You look up from the book you're reading, and your smile is genuine as Draco enters the compartment dressed in the same casual clothing as you.

He makes sure to shut the door firmly behind him before sitting down across from you.

"Hey," he says, leaning forward so that his elbow's rest on his knees, liking the blush on your cheeks.

"Hey," your voice is soft.

"Thank you for the quill," Draco says, smiling instead of smirking, which you find you like better.  "It's very much my style."

"I wasn't sure what to get you," you shrug your shoulders, holding tightly to the book in your lap. "Did you really like it?"

"Of course, you have excellent taste," he compliments, brazenly reaching forward to cover your cold hand with his own, causing your eyes to flick nervously to the door before back to him.

"I see you must like your gift," he nods.

You reach automatically for the necklace resting on the swell of your breasts, nodding. "Yes, it's very beautiful, thank you. It must have cost a fortune."

"Nothing I can't afford," Draco dismisses instantly. You know he doesn't mean that in a pompous manner of any sorts, that's just a Malfoy for you; so rich, they're instantly dismissive of anything monetary as if it means nothing, whereas others struggle so hard just to have so little.

You suppose, really, you can't hold that against him.

Still, you enjoy the rest of the ride to Hogwarts, just the two of you in the train compartment. Draco buys from the food trolley, knowing how much you like the cauldron cakes. He's nice, and when he's not trying to be overly snobbish, he can hold a very good conversation.

Maybe this school year really will be different.

~~~~~~~

"Oh, there ya are!"

You blink as you feel an arm around your shoulder as you walk towards Charms, some books tucked beneath your arm. The first day of classes starting back has been hectic, and you've been pretty busy trying to get all your things unpacked --- apparently the unpacking spell your father taught you does not... always put things where they should be. You'll need to work on it a little more.

You look up, giving the red-haired Weasley twin a genuine smile. George beams down at you, giving your shoulders a nice tight hug.

"So, how's your break been?" he asks, and you shrug. 

"It went well, I like the Christmas holiday."

"Don't we all! Mum always makes us sweaters, though she always gets us mixed up." He says with a grin. "Once she switched me and Ginny's sweater for Christmas, though I found I liked the way hers fit better then mine. Didn't give it back."

You chuckle, finding yourself relaxing as you listened to the twin's ramblings. You know it's not Fred, but George has always been just as friendly and you find you like him well enough. Sure, it's a bit strange, finding a Gryffindor and a Slytherin conversing as they walk down the hall, but you're... very much not the regular Slytherin.

You should have been in Ravenclaw, you just know it. You'll never understand the sorting hat's reasonings, and you're starting to think the blasted thing just picks and chooses where students should go based on it's whims, not which house they would be better in!

"It must be so much fun at your house during breaks," you say after a moment, thinking about it. "It's just me and my parents usually. You guys must have a house full, I can't begin to imagine with so many people how fun the holiday must be."

"You say fun, Mum would say chaotic. I right think she's a bit happier when we're not all there running around," George informs you brightly, the two of you finally coming to a stop. You glance behind you, seeing the Charms classroom, Flitwick busying himself at his desk. You don't see any platinum blonde hair, so you assume Draco isn't there yet.

"I suppose. So why are you walking with me today and not Fred?" You ask curiously as you look up at him. "I find it a bit odd, or are you trying to switch on me and tell if I know the difference?"

"Nah, we know you can. There's no fun in that now," George grins at you. "Fred's busy catching up with Harry, as if Ron hasn't blabbed every bit of detail of the break. You know what a big mouth he is."

You have no idea, you just assume that's the other red haired boy in your grade. Contrary to popular belief, being friends with Harry doesn't immediately make your name well-known, and you could honestly care less about who he's friends with. It's none of your  business, you just want to get through school already.

"I better get to class," you say, glancing at the clock. "Flitwick doesn't really mind if we're a few minutes late, but ---."

"I get it. This is my free period, so I can hang out here all day."

Lucky him.

~~~~~~~~

Draco sinks a little low in his chair, frowning. His back is to the door now, and he's a few rows behind you where you sit with a Ravenclaw girl, casually chatting as you work on your Charms assignment. 

Again, you're talking to Weasley's.

Had the break meant nothing to you? The gift? The fact he spent the entire train ride chatting with you instead of listening to Crabbe and Goyle boost him up?

Are you disregarding the fact he's putting forth effort to try to get you to date him? He's following his mother's advice, chatting with you, finding out what you genuinely like and whatnot. His money and influence means nothing to you, so that puts him at an disadvantage.

Bloody hell, wooing a girl is difficult.

Especially when they're canoodling with lower class wizards.

He's irritated, annoyed --- he wants to know exactly what you think you're doing! You know he likes you at this point, you don't have to fraternize with a Weasley twin anymore! You can go ahead and dismiss him, date Draco, and be done with that whole issue!

What in the bloody blazes are you thinking? You're going to hurt your reputation, and that of your family's. Your mother, from what Draco can tell, is just a sillier version of his mother, and she would probably faint if she knew! Your father, well, he doesn't seem to care much one way or the other so long as you're content, but that's a father for you.

The mother's are always the problem.

What should he do then? Does Draco need to further prove his affection? He kissed you, multiple times, he bought you a Christmas gift --- he even made sure you had all the Cauldron Cakes you wanted the other day!

Blast.

He needs a new plan.

What can he do to get rid of the Weasley? Both twins are irritating, pulling pranks, finishing each others sentences. It's hard enough to tell them apart, not that Draco cares enough to ever put forth such effort, but they're also favorite's of most of the teachers. Well, perhaps not as much as their elder brothers, but still well thought of.

Draco must ruin that.

He props his chin on his hand, brooding over his textbook.  He doesn't even like Charms, he's only in the advanced portion for your sake, not because he's good at it. He doesn't understand what he's even looking at, and he has much more important matters to worry about!

How can he get rid of the Weasley twin?

~~~~~~~~

You could feel Draco's eyes boring into your back the entire class. You grimace as you leave it, wondering what's put him in such a foul mood. You swear, the boy has worse mood swings then you mother does.

"(Y/N)!"

 You almost cringe as you hear Draco call out for you, and your steps pause, allowing for him to catch up with you. You tighten your grip on your books, turning wary eyes on the taller boy as he comes to your side.

"Hey."

"What are you doing this afternoon?" he asks, gray eyes pinning yours with a bit more intensity then what you're used too. "When you're through with classes?"

"Nothing I can think of."

"Good, then you can help me with this blasted Charms assignment. I don't see why we need to know how to contain something, it seems pointless. Just blast it."

You roll your eyes. "You can't just blow everything up, Draco. Trapping something, or containing it, usually proves to be much more effective then causing an explosion."

"If you say so."

Boys.

"I'll help you with it tonight then," you say decisively as you two walk towards the stairs. Your next class is up, whereas Draco will need to go straight. "After dinner?"

"Yes." Good, you won't be able to spend any time with Weasley if you're stuck in the commons room with him! Ha!

Not that Draco is keeping score, but he thinks he deserves a few extra points for such a clever ruse. 

Take that, Weasley!

~~~~~~~~

"Draco."

"What?"

"You're not even listening to me."

"I am."

"No, you're not. What did I just say?"

"(Y/N), you know I'm listening. I need to understand this lesson before tomorrow, don't I? Why would I ignore you?"

"What did I just say?"

Draco sighs; he honestly has no clue, he's not heard you in the last fifteen minutes. You went far over his head into some deep Charms wording and he stopped following. Really, he's just admiring how your necklace looks on you, how the green compliments you, how it falls perfectly from your elegant neck. You'll make a beautiful wife for him one day, you're a perfect applicant to be a future Malfoy.

"Draco!" He's ignoring you completely! Aggravated, you snap your fingers in front of his nose, causing him to blink rapidly. If he wants you to help him with his lessons, he needs to pay attention, otherwise it's a complete waste of time! There's so many other things you could be doing!

Although...

You're glad for the distraction. You have this fear you'll run into Fred, and you've never had to tell someone you didn't want to date them before. If the holiday showed you anything, it's that you are interested in Draco, that he's intelligent, your parents like him, and you really like his manor, it's beautiful. When it's just the two of you, he doesn't put on a show or become so arrogant, and it's a nice change.

Well, when he's paying attention.

he doesnt have to look so bored!

"Is there any point in continuing? Really, I think you have all the understanding of this charm that you're going to get," you sound as irritated as you feel as you firmly close your textbook. You and Draco are in the Slytherin commonroom, sitting on one of the high-backed, emerald sofa's in the back. You have your books between you, both of you shuffled so you're facing each other, but you're quickly finding that wherever Draco is, pairs of eyes are sure to follow.

You're being talked about more by just sitting with him so openly then you are when you're talking to Fred or George!

"What? Of course there is," Draco says immediately, blinking. "I mean, you just..."

How can he make you stay? Are you leaving? Where will you go? You don't have intentions of leaving the commons, do you? He really wants you to stay where he can keep an eye on you, make sure you're not running off to see the competition --- not that Draco will ever be in competition with such a low class wizard!

You frown at him, brushing your hair behind your ear. He's flustered, which you find odd, and you wonder what he's thinking about?

You think back to the night he first kissed you often, wondering about that man suddenly appearing out of thin air, hissing out Draco's surname. You know they're not always the most... law-abiding family, but they all seem nice enough in their own ways, at least to you. You find it makes you uncomfortable when remembering how Lucius Malfoy had asked you not to say a word, and it makes you almost reconsider even wanting to be involved with the family.

Really, what are they involved in? What are they doing? Is it legal? Is it hurting someone? You know about the Death Eater status, but that was so many years ago! Surely everyone has moved past that now? Truly, who would want to follow some evil wizard who would basically destroy the wizarding way of life? It seems so foolish in your mind.

"Are you feeling alright, Draco?" You ask after a moment, curling your hands around your textbook.

"Of course." he mutters, pale cheeks heating. "I just want to spend time with you is all, you know that." And make sure you don't go running into Weasley's arms.

You flush, and immediately look down.

Oh.

Right.

"You can always just say that, you know. We don't have to be studying." You bite your lip, a gesture Draco finds absolutely adorable. His eyes linger there for several moments, admiring them, remembering how soft they feel against his own, how timid you are when you first kiss, but then how you grow so bold...

"Don't we?" he murmurs, shuffling the slightest bit closer. "Would you want us to be seen together under a different light then?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't see why we don't go ahead and make it official." Draco says smoothly, doing his best not to smirk at you. "After the holiday we spent together, why draw it out any longer? You know it would make our parents both happy."

You don't care about your parents.

"Draco, just because of what happened over the holiday doesn't mean I want to be your girlfriend," you mutter, your voice softening; you truly don't want to be overheard, especially with how people like to gossip. 

Pansy, to be specific,. She and her little rumormongers are all gathered up by the fireplace, giggling loudly as it is.

"Why not?" Draco seems surprised. "I thought we already worked everything out. We like each other, I bought you a gift, I spent time with you ---."

"Do you really think a gift is going to make me want to date you?" You stare at him, miffed. "How superficial do you think I am?"

"Not at all!" He says hastily, his smug air starting to dissipate. "I just thought --- well, I don't see why we shouldn't! We're both purebloods, come from influential families, intelligent, goodlooking... I can go on forever as to why we should."

"And I can go on forever as to why we shouldn't. Draco, none of that stuff even matters! Those are all just --- just not important. If you don't like someone as a person, if you can't stand to even listen to the other when you're together, then what's the point?" You're a tad hurt, wondering once again if he's only trying to get you to be his girlfriend because of your family. You'd thought perhaps, after the holiday and the kisses, that just maybe he liked you as a person. But then he has to go and make comments like that again!

"I do listen to you!" he assures you, reaching forward to grab your hand. "I listen!"

"You don't, and we both know it. You tune me out like you do Theodore when he's going on about his plants." You huff, jerking your hand away from him as his cheeks heat. "I can't believe I --- do you even like me, or has it always been about my family? Every time I think differently, you go and make some stupid comment like that!" 

You stand jerkily, grabbing your books and leaving Draco with the most bewildered expression.

How did this go south so quickly?

He watches as you stalk away from him, heading for the girls dormitories and leaving him by himself on the sofa. He sighs, running a hand down his face.

What the hell?

~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, what do you think? About this weekend?"

"You want to go to Hogsmead?" You hesitate, staring at Fred where he sits beside you on the cold stone bench out in the courtyard. You've almost been avoiding him, but your class schedule makes it easy for the two of you to be on opposite sides of the castle. He doesn't seem to notice, and he's always so happy and ready with a joke or kind word, it's a wonderful change. 

He, also, apparently is still interested in you.

At least with Fred you're not worried he only likes you because of your family, when in reality, he shouldn't because of your family. You're a Slytherin, and he's a Gryffindor, so by normal standards that just doesn't match anyway.

Now he... he wants to take out on a date? In Hogsmead? Where everyone from school can see?

You're not sure.

One, you've never been on a date before. You find it sweet that he's even asking, that he wants to take you out and have fun with you. You'd have gone on one with Draco if he'd ever asked, if he'd ever bothered --- that stupid boy always just assumes!

Well, you don't want to think about him anymore!

"I don't see why we can't," you say decisively, nodding your head. "I'd love too."

"Good." Fred beams, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. His feelings for you didn't change over the break, not at all. He finds you interesting, and quite nice, and you're smart for a Slytherin too. You don't fit in with the rest of them at all, and George likes you well enough as well.

Fred can't find anything wrong with you.

"So this weekend, we meet up, and I'll take you out. George is going to be with Harry and Hermione, so that'll give us the day together."

How sweet.

You smile at him, pleased. He's making time with you, taking off from his brother, who he's never apart from. 

Draco wouldn't do that for you, he'd just assume you wouldn't mind.

Ugh, you can't stand the thought of there being two Malfoy's.

You can't stand just the one!

"It's a date," you say, slowly rising to your feet. You turn to face him, excited at the idea. 

Plus, you want to rub in Malfoy's face he's not the only boy in school who's interested in you. He can be as self-righteous, arrogant, egocentric, sententious and every other version of pompous as he wants, but you don't have to put up with it!

You're going on a date with Fred Weasley.

And there's nothing Draco can do about it. 


End file.
